


Knight Moves

by JayKay (McKay)



Series: Knight Moves [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/JayKay
Summary: A year after the events of Naboo, Obi-Wan is still mourning the loss of his Master, but an unexpected occurance jolts him back into the present.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 1999. This isn't a story in which Obi-Wan turns to the dark side or gets corrupted.

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

It's been six months, and the pain is still with me every waking moment just as sharp as it was the day it happened. 

I got called before the Council today--not officially, of course. They simply wanted to tell me they'd noticed the difference in my behavior of late, that I seemed "unlike myself." 

Thank you for that brilliant observation, O revered Jedi Masters. 

I don't feel like myself. How can I? Part of me is gone, torn away in the crimson flash of a lightsaber blade. Only my wound wasn't cauterized, it's still bleeding, and I don't know what to do to get it to stop. They keep telling me I have to let go, that I have to release my emotions and move past the hurt and the longing and the grief so I can let it--let _him_ \--go and move on. 

But I can't. I don't know how to let go anymore, if I ever truly did. Every time I let go with one hand, I grasp everything back with my other hand. I feel like I'm caught in an endless loop where time moves forward, but I relive all the same feelings and reactions over and over every day. 

Years of lessons and studying and practice to bring myself to a place of centered calm, and it's all lost. I've slid so far down that I can no longer maintain my peace and grounding. I find myself reacting to everything rather than stepping back, observing it with objectivity and then acting on it as I was taught. To say I over-react isn't too off the mark since it takes little to set off the roiling turbulence in my mind and heart. I'm no better off than any toddler in the nursery who hasn't even begun training yet! 

I'm trying to focus on training Anakin like he wanted me to, and I guess I'm probably running the boy too hard just so I'll have an excuse to keep myself busy. While I've got something to occupy my mind and exhaust my body, I can forget for a while, you know? I can drive myself to exhaustion, but that's not an answer. And it's not like it stops me from thinking and feeling when I'm alone. In the privacy of my own head, the loneliness, the pain, the regret--it's all still there. The memories rise up, playing over and over, and I keep thinking, "If only I'd been faster, if only I hadn't let myself get knocked off the catwalk, if only he had waited so we could face that thing together." 

That's a lot of if-onlys, and they do no damn good. I did what I did. He made the choice he made. What happened, happened. Nothing will change that or bring him back to me. 

So I'm still not myself. They're calling me withdrawn, and I know Anakin is afraid of me and my unpredictable moods. This child who's not afraid to hop in the cockpit of a strange ship and blow up space stations won't even meet my eyes. He's afraid to question me about anything, he just does what I tell him to do even if I can feel the fatigue rolling off him like a wave. 

So much for a close Master-Padawan bond. So much for a bond at all. I haven't allowed a bond to form; I won't even drop my shields for him. 

Withdrawn? Yes, I think that's a pretty fair assessment. But I don't care anymore. He's gone, and my life is empty. 

I don't ever want to care so much for another person again. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Success. 

I have found the Jedi. 

He is where I thought he would be: the Temple on Coruscant. 

Coruscant is the last place I should be. I do not know if my Master has abandoned his secret stronghold buried in the depths of this vast city-planet. Even if he has, he still has many eyes and ears here. If he learns of my presence, I will die. It is a risk I am prepared to take. The prize is worth any price if I can obtain it. 

I have shielded myself carefully. My Master will not be able to sense me unless he is seeking me out. I hope he has abandoned the search. He is tenacious, but I have made certain that "proof" of my death has reached him by now. He tried to kill me once. His plan failed. 

It is not the first of his recent plans to fail. 

We revealed ourselves to the Jedi. The master was killed, but the apprentice survived, and now the Jedi know he is moving against them. 

Now I will reveal myself to the apprentice. I do not know how it will end this time. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Master Windu called me into his office for a little "friendly chat" today. 

Hah! 

The voice-piece of the Council speaks! 

He's "concerned" about me, and he wants me to visit the Healers. In fact, he's already set up an appointment for me. How convenient. 

Translation: They're afraid I'm going to screw up the kid. 

I can't blame them for that. Anakin's situation is... unusual, to say the least, and we can't afford to make any mistakes. It's probably for the best if they take Anakin out of my hands, even though that means I won't... can't fulfill the last request he made of me. 

Another failure. I should be used to it by now. 

But the Council... they don't understand what's wrong with me, and I can't make them understand no matter how hard I try. The Healers aren't going to do me a damned bit of good. There's nothing wrong with my body or my mind. It's my _heart_ that's been shattered. 

No amount of Bacta or Force-healing can fix that. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

The Jedi has not left the Temple in the two months since my arrival on Coruscant. 

He remains safely hidden behind those ancient walls. I remain outside, unable to breach them without betraying myself to the Council and to my Master. 

This is problematic. 

It is also unusual. My sources indicated that he has taken an apprentice of his own. He should have been sent on missions, not remained cloistered within the Temple for so long a time. 

He must come out eventually, however. When he does, I will be waiting. 

I have learned the merit of patience. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I was called before the Council again today. I'm beginning to feel like him, always being summoned and made to account for myself. 

"Eight months is too long to indulge in excessive grief," they said. Like I can turn my emotions on and off for their convenience? I think not. 

So... I've been relieved of duty. 

They seem to think a change of scenery will help, that getting away from the place that holds the most memories for me will start the healing process. To speed things along, Master Windu and Master Yoda will take over Anakin's training for a while. I'm to leave the Temple for an entire month--they don't care where I go, they're just kicking me out--and while I'm gone, they're going to move my quarters. 

They're going to pack up all his things and get rid of them for me because they think the task is too great for me to handle myself. Did they ask if I want to leave our quarters? No. They simply decided it was the best thing for me, that being surrounded by ghosts and memories is keeping me from performing my duties to the best of my ability, which, of course, is robbing them of one of their active-duty Knights. This isn't about caring, it's about expediency. I'm a cog that doesn't fit anymore, and if I can't be fixed, they want me out of the way so I don't mess up any other cogs. 

All right, no. I haven't moved any of his things. His bedroom is exactly the way he left it the morning we departed for Naboo. It's not because I'm so far in denial that I expect him to walk through the door any minute. I know better than that. It's just... 

It's comforting. I can go in there and touch his belongings, breathe in the scent that still lingers in the folds of his clothes, and for a while, he's with me again. I feel whole again. 

It doesn't last, of course, but still... I need that little bit of contact with him. He left me so suddenly, I never had a chance to prepare. Just RIIIIP! and he was gone from my life, from my mind, from my soul... and now they want to take everything else from me as well. 

I won't let them. 

When I pack to leave on my enforced R&R time, I'll take a few of his things with me to keep them safe. I can't let them dispose of everything; there's little enough left behind other than memories. He was so unattached to material things, he didn't have much to begin with. I can't just let them erase his life. 

They're giving me an order, and I will obey. 

I'll go. But I'm taking him with me. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Finally the Jedi has left the Temple. I do not know why. His apprentice is not with him, and he does not appear to be on a mission. Nor does he appear to be leaving the planet at this time. 

Most unexpected. 

I have followed him closely, determined not to lose him even if he goes off-planet. However, he has done nothing for the past two days but wander around Coruscant in what on the surface seems to be a random pattern of destinations. If I did not know how focused and purposeful the Jedi are, I would say he seems adrift. 

He has changed much. 

When last I saw him on Naboo, he was filled with energy and Light. It radiated from him in a glow that I could almost see with my eyes as well as with the Force. That light is dimmed. 

I almost did not recognize the shell of a man who left the Temple. Did the loss of his Master extinguish his inner light as well? Perhaps their bond was greater than I imagined. 

This is problematic. 

It is not an insurmountable problem, however. 

I am patient. I will continue to wait. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Force... 

Force, no... 

How could this be happening? 

It died! I killed it! I saw it fall into the shaft! 

How could that monster be here on Coruscant? But I saw it--the face that's haunted my nightmares for nearly a year--that horrible, evil thing is here, and it's stalking me. It wants to finish the job it started on Naboo, but I'll kill it. If it comes anywhere near me again, I won't hesitate this time, I'll kill it where it stands, no matter that Jedi are only supposed to defend, not attack. It's trying to kill me again, and that's reason enough. 

I don't care what the Council ordered. I have to go back to the Temple, I have to tell them the Sith creature has returned. 

Force... Why didn't I strike it down when I had the chance? That monster murdered him--took him from me! I hate it, and I will kill it, no matter what the cost! It will die again, slowly this time so that it knows the full measure of my vengeance. It will pay for what it did by my hand, and no other! 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Our first meeting did not go well. 

I confronted the Jedi while he was walking in a topiary park in the Garden District. We were alone. He turned around, alerted by the Force to my presence. His face drained of all color. He drew his lightsaber and ignited it. 

I unclipped my own lightsaber and tossed it at his feet. I spread my hands to show him I was unarmed and did not intend an attack. 

He did not lower his weapon. I did not move. He wanted to kill me. He would use the slightest provocation as an excuse to strike me down. I was not yet ready to die. 

Up close, I was better able to see the changes in him. He is thinner. Gaunt. Almost wasted. His hands trembled, but whether from physical weakness or emotion, I could not tell. His eyes are haunted. I can imagine by what. Or perhaps I should say by whom. I saw the loathing in his face when he looked at me. I could feel his hatred roiling against me. Once I would have savored it. Reveled in it. No longer. 

"You're dead!" he snarled. 

"No." 

I remained still. I did not want to provoke him into acting in haste. That would have proven unpleasant for both of us. 

Well. Unpleasant for _me_. I cannot say he would have found the prospect of skewering me unpleasant. 

"How is this possible?" he demanded. "I killed you! I saw you die!" 

His anger was directed at me, but I was pleased to see it. If he can feel anger, he has not become deadened to the point of apathy. The spark of life I saw within him on Naboo is not extinguished. Merely dimmed. There is hope of rekindling it once more. 

"I will explain," I told him, but he waved me silent. 

"I don't care! I don't want to hear it! I just want you dead, you monster!" 

One mis-step on my part, one uncertain word. That is all it would have taken. He would have cut me down where I stood. To remain was to court death. I turned to depart. 

"Don't you _dare_ walk away from me!" he shouted, fury giving his voice new strength and volume. 

I stopped and faced him once more. "I wish to talk, not fight. If you do not wish to listen, I will not remain. We will continue the discussion when you are calmer and more rational. Until that time, further discourse is pointless." 

"What about this?" he called out, kicking my lightsaber with a viciousness I did not think any Jedi capable of. 

He probably wished it was my lifeless body. I cannot say I regret disappointing him on this matter. 

"I have no further use for it." 

I left him. 

He will return to the Temple and inform the Council of my presence. Once they know, my Master will know. I must reach them before the Jedi. It is my only chance for survival, slim though it may be. 

Going to the Jedi Temple, approaching the Council... this is not what I planned, nor is it what I wish to do. I no longer have a choice. 

I can only hope they will be more willing to listen to me than the Jedi was. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

"Your focus determines your reality," my ass. If that was true, _none_ of this would be happening. I don't want this reality--I _hate_ this reality! My focus was on finishing my apprenticeship, becoming a Knight, and then being paired up with him so we could continue serving on missions, working together as the strong, effective team we've been for years. _That_ should be my reality, not this waking nightmare! 

Force tell me how my focus determined _THIS_! 

I can't believe they did this to me. This is just... 

It's too much to ask. They have to know that. This is too much to ask of me, too much to expect me to bear. It's cruel... it's heartless and cruel... 

In the name of the hundred little gods, tell me why I serve an Order whose leaders are capable of treating any of us with such callous disregard. I don't _care_ what that monster said! I don't believe it! I don't want that thing anywhere near me! I want to kill it! I want to look it right in the eyes and run it through just like it did... 

I want it dead. I want it to _stay_ dead this time. I want it to die slowly and painfully by my hands. I want it to know just how much I hate it as it dies. 

I can't... I can't possibly... 

It's too much. It's just too damn much to ask... 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Our second meeting did not go well either. 

As soon as I entered the Jedi Temple, I was detained and taken before the Council. This is what I wanted. 

I was searched for weapons and mentally probed before I was allowed to enter the Council Chambers. They found nothing. I did not plan to attack anyone. 

When I entered the Chamber, I looked around, assessing each member. I did not know their names or their ranks. My Master knows. He has said enough to reveal as much, but he never deigned to impart the information to me. However, I could sense which Jedi was the strongest and most venerable among them . 

I knelt in the center of the circular room, facing the small, wizened Jedi whom I learned during my audience was Master Yoda, a name I had heard mentioned with contempt many times before by my Master. 

"What do you want here?" A dark-skinned man sitting next to Master Yoda demanded. He appeared calm, yet I could sense anger and distrust beneath his surface tranquillity. 

I was the focal point of negative emotion for all of them. It battered me with the force of a storm. I enforced my shields and stood strong against it. They knew me. They knew what they thought I had done: killed their best warrior. 

I was not welcome. 

"Sanctuary," I replied, meeting the man's eyes and seeing the accusation deep within them. 

"You're a Sith!" Another Jedi--a female--exclaimed. "You killed Qui-Gon Jinn. Why should we give you sanctuary now?" 

"I was Sith." I turned my gaze to Master Yoda, speaking to the room but focusing on him. My instincts told me that if I stood any chance of leaving this room alive, it lay with him. "No longer. Nor am I the murderer of Qui-Gon Jinn." 

There were cries of "What?" and "Impossible!" throughout the circle. I ignored them and continued to look at Master Yoda, who returned my steady gaze, his green eyes giving away nothing. 

"You're lying," the dark-skinned man declared. "We have a witness. Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi saw you kill his Master." 

Obi-Wan Kenobi. At last I knew the name of the man whose presence had haunted me since Naboo. Obi-Wan. 

I returned my focus to the task at hand. I repeated the fact: I did not kill the Jedi Master. 

They demanded an explanation. I was willing to give it, but Master Yoda silenced them with a thump of his cane on the floor, the sound of which echoed in the suddenly quiet chamber. 

"Summon Knight Kenobi." 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

It sickened me to see that creature kneeling in front of Master Yoda and the rest of the Council. Like it was some kind of penitent waiting for absolution. 

And they believed it! They believed its lies! 

I was on my way to seek an audience with the Council so I could report what I'd seen, when one of the attendants stopped me in the hall and said I'd been summoned. I couldn't imagine why, until I saw that thing in the room, and then I knew. I wondered if it had been captured or if it had come of its own accord. But I couldn't imagine it would do _that_ , so I was sure someone else had found it and brought it here. 

Then they said it had come alone and unarmed, and I tried to explain the only reason it was unarmed was because _I_ had its weapon, but they didn't listen. 

And then they tried to tell me it claimed it didn't kill him. 

They tried to tell me that it denied all responsibility for skewering him like he was no more than a hunted beast on a spit and then leaving him to die slowly and in pain. 

I _saw_ what happened! I know it killed him, there's no way it can deny that! I don't care what kind of lie it came up with to "explain" what happened. I _know_! I don't believe it. I'll never believe it! Never! 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I am beginning to realize what kind of challenge I face. 

Obi-Wan's resistance to the truth is astounding. I understand his loyalty to his Master and his desire for revenge. Were I in his position, I would likely feel the same. What I do not understand is this deep denial even in the face of concrete proof. He does not wish to see the truth, therefore to him, it does not exist. He is determined to believe his interpretation of events despite what I or anyone else might say. This goes beyond loyalty to something much deeper. 

Madness? 

Obsession? 

Love? 

Perhaps. It would explain much had they been lovers. 

However, it does not help my situation. 

Still, I must manage with things as they are, not as I wish them to be. Dealing with the ghost of an old lover complicates matters. I had not anticipated such difficulty, but there is nothing I can do except wait and hope that he will accept the truth eventually. 

I did not mind that they summoned Obi-Wan before they allowed me to tell my tale. I wanted him to hear the truth from me. I thought it might help. I was wrong, of course, but I believe it was better for him to learn what had happened directly from me. 

When he arrived, he appeared shocked and then appalled to see me. I was astonished to see how open his young face is. Despite his training, his emotions bubble at the surface. No calm, stoic manner for him. I remember watching as he waited behind the laser barrier to join the duel. Unlike his Master, who knelt to ground and center himself before entering the battle, Obi-Wan had danced impatiently, eager for his chance to join in. 

The anguish in his voice and on his face a few moments later as his Master received a fatal blow right in front of him while he remained trapped and unable to help... I do not think I shall ever forget it. 

After the Council had shouted Obi-Wan down and convinced him to listen albeit grudgingly, I was given permission to speak. I explained what they did not know. 

My former Master considered me too valuable to risk in combat with two of the best warriors from the Jedi Temple. Not when he was uncertain as to the outcome. I was highly skilled, but Jinn had been reputed to be the best in the Order, and he had his own apprentice at his side. Together, they offered a dangerous challenge even to me. My Master had wanted to strike at the Jedi, yes, but he did not wish to lose one of his most formidable weapons in doing so. He was, I believe, holding me in reserve for future battles. 

Thus when the final confrontation occurred on Naboo, I was relegated to the role of observer. The actual participant was a clone. 

My Master had created the clone in preparation for this battle which he knew would come. It possessed my strength, speed and skills, but it had been created with only the capacity to hate and the desire to kill. It was utterly without mercy, compassion or love. 

I cannot claim I possessed those qualities either. My Master had sought to eradicate them in me entirely through my training and his indoctrination. But the human heart is a resilient thing. It cannot be forever denied, even by a Sith Lord. 

I was ordered to allow the clone to attack the Jedi. I was to step in only if the clone were defeated. It killed the Master, but its hatred and arrogance were its undoing. It paused to gloat over a fallen enemy who seemed to be vulnerable, forgetting that no battle is over until the enemy is dead. 

One should never underestimate any opponent. Sidious had taught me to handle any important death myself, but if I must trust the task to someone else, I should demand to see clearly recognizable and identifiable body parts. The death of an enemy should never be left to chance or incompetent hands. I also knew better than to underestimate an opponent who has the Force on his side, whether it be the Light or the Dark. 

Obi-Wan summoned his strength and his power, and he killed the clone. At that point, I should have revealed myself and killed him. I did not. 

Instead, I returned to my Master like the blind, servile fool that I was and reported what had happened. My Master demanded a reckoning. He had not wanted either of the Jedi alive to tell what they knew. Because of me, he said, the Jedi knew of a certainty that the Sith were rising to power again. I had betrayed the Sith. I had betrayed him. I had ruined his plans. I was unworthy. 

He tried to kill me. He almost succeeded. 

Between the events of Naboo and my Master's attempted murder, I changed my perspective on many things. I escaped with my life, and when I had recovered enough, I arranged for false evidence of my death to reach my Master, hoping it would be enough to satisfy him. I severed our Master-Apprentice bond. Not only would this corroborate the story of my "death," but I no longer want any tie to him. 

I am no longer of the Dark. I am not yet of the Light. I do not know what I am. I only know that I belong here. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I still don't understand why the Council believe him. Master Yoda said they performed deep mind probes on him to discern whether he was lying or not, and the probes showed he was telling the truth, but I can't accept that. I _won't_ accept that! 

"Hard to see, the Dark Side is." 

How many times has Master Yoda said this? Yet he's so willing to accept that this creature isn't hiding something? That it's not capable of shielding itself and its true intentions somehow? 

As if that wasn't bad enough, Master Yoda ordered me to be the one to help it find the path to the Light as it said it wanted. Anakin's training will be taken over by Masters Yoda and Windu, and I'm supposed to consider that... that... _monster_ my Padawan learner! 

They want me to establish a bond with it! 

No. 

I will obey the Council. I will teach it as best I can. But I will _not_ bond with it. That would be a betrayal not only of him but of myself. I will not knit my soul with evil. 

I'm to bring it back before the Council in three months for an evaluation. If it has made enough progress in that time, they'll allow it to stay permanently. If not... Well, they were unclear on that. I assume if they sense it's still adhering to the Dark Side, they'll execute it. I hope it fails their tests. I hope they let me execute it. I wish I could make sure it would fail, but that would be dishonorable, and I can't go against all he taught me even though I don't trust that thing not to murder me in my sleep. 

My only consolation is that the decision wasn't unanimous. Some of the Council members share my doubts. I just hope the others don't realize I was right only when it's too late. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

After we were dismissed by the Council, Obi-Wan was informed that he had been assigned new quarters. He appeared unsurprised but displeased by this. 

We were led to his... our... quarters by one of the Knights who stood watch outside the Council chambers. Once there, we were left alone. He said nothing for a long time. He would not look at me when he spoke at last. 

"You'll take the bedroom on the right," he announced. 

"As you wish." 

There was another long silence. I studied the simple layout of the room. There was a common area adjoined to a small kitchen. A short corridor possessed three doors: one on the left, one on the right and one at the end. I assumed they led to bedrooms and the bathing room. 

I stood near the entrance, waiting. I wanted to sit down. It had been a draining day. However, the palpable hostility radiating from Obi-Wan kept me still. I did not know how he would react, and I still do not trust him not to cut me down at the slightest provocation. 

"I'm supposed to train you now." His back was to me. I could not see his face, but I could hear the sneer in his voice. "You'll need this." 

Abruptly, he whirled and tossed my lightsaber at me. He must have had it concealed in his robes. 

Instinctively I caught it. I then dropped it again. 

"This is a Sith weapon," I said. 

"Then you should use it," he spat at me. 

"I am no longer of the Sith. I will not use this weapon." 

I remained calm, but I will not bend on this point. He cannot force me to use that weapon. It is a reminder of my past. I am beginning a new life. I will not ever use that weapon again. 

He shrugged and started to walk away, leaving the weapon where it lay on the floor. It will stay there until he removes it. I will not touch it. 

He moved into the kitchen and began rummaging through the cabinets as if he were looking for something. His restless movements, however, indicated that he was moving because he could no longer bear to remain still. Then he stopped as suddenly as he had begun and turned to face me at last. "You'll have to build another, then." 

A reply burned on my tongue. I knew I should not say it, yet there are times when I cannot censor what passes from my mind to my mouth. What comes out is often... unwise. My former Master attempted to beat that trait out of me at an early age. As I grew older, I became more successful at keeping silent. But now, with no fear of reprisal, I find that attribute reasserting itself once more. 

"Will my Master assist me in constructing it?" 

He froze, every line of his body stiff with tension. I should not have said it. I knew before the words passed my lips. However, shocking him seems to be the only way I can get a response from him. 

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. I folded my arms and waited. 

When long moments passed and he did not speak, I prompted him again. 

"It is your duty." I injected a deliberate pause, then added, "Master." 

If he had killed me then and there, I would not have been surprised. 

To his credit, he controlled his anger and did not strike me. I could see his chest rising and falling rapidly. His fists were white-knuckled. 

My first lesson, he informed me, would be on the Jedi method of lightsaber construction. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

This morning I found the creature's lightsaber on the floor right where it dropped the weapon last night. Either it's willing to do anything in order to lull me into a false sense of security so I'll lower my guard and it can strike, or it wasn't kidding about not using it again. That surprises me. 

No. This proves nothing. I still don't trust it. I'll _never_ trust it. 

I wish I could petition the Council for separate quarters. It's uncomfortable living with that thing. Not only am I concerned for my life, but I hate breathing its air. I don't want to be in its presence any more than I have to be, which is too much considering I have to live with it. 

But I had no choice. Not about living with it or about helping it construct a new weapon. I put the double-bladed lightsaber in the back of a storage compartment and requisitioned the parts we needed to start building it a new lightsaber. When they arrived from Stores, I called the creature into the room, ordered it to sit down and dumped them on the table in front of it. 

"Here." I pointed to the jumble of parts. "Start working." 

It looked up at me, and it was all I could do not to shudder and avert my eyes from the sight of its tattooed face and reptilian eyes. Memories rose up like bile, but I forced myself to maintain eye contact. I refused to show any weakness to the creature that it could exploit and use against me. But as I stared down at it, I saw a strange glint in its yellow eyes. In anyone else, I would have identified it as amusement. 

"You are my Master," it said in that maddeningly calm tone it always has. "You are supposed to show me the proper way." 

With anyone else, I would have said they were teasing me, but I know the creature was mocking me, goading me in hopes I would fail in my duties. And if I did that, it could complain to the Council about me and get me into even _more_ trouble than I was already in thanks to my "unhealthy attitude." 

"All right, _fine_ ," I snapped and sat down as far away from it as I could and still be within reach to assist it. "I assume you know what the tools are for. I don't have to explain _those_ , do I?" 

I was taunting it. I admit it. I wanted to provoke it. Maybe if I could goad it enough, it would attack, and then I could show the Council I was right all along. Besides, if it could provoke me, then by all the little household gods, I would provoke the damn thing right back! 

But it didn't fall for my trap. It just picked up and named each tool, describing the function of each one as well. 

"Fine." I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair. "So get started. You might want to take off the gloves first, though. This is delicate work." 

For the first time, it appeared uncertain, but then it nodded and pulled off the black gloves it wore. It occurred to me that I probably should have asked Stores to send along some clothes for it as well. As far as I could tell, the only possessions it had were the clothes on its back and the contents of its belt pouches. And the clothes it had... Well, considering no one else in the Temple wandered around wearing black Sith robes, a change in wardrobe was a good idea if it wanted to fit in. The horns and tattoos would make it stand out enough. 

Thinking about its face made me wonder how extensive its tattoos were, and I flicked my gaze to its hands as it tugged on the fingers of its right hand, then slid the smooth leather off. I expected to see the familiar red and black symbols, but the skin was unmarked; in fact, it was paler than my own, probably because it kept its hands covered most of the time. But it has very strong-looking hands with fingers that are long, slender and graceful. It's hard to imagine those hands dealing so much pain and death, but I know all too well what casual cruelty they're capable of. 

It started working on a new, single-blade lightsaber. Its method of constructing a lightsaber wasn't that different from what I was taught, so I only had to help a couple of times. 

I did my duty for today. I thought that was definitely enough.. _I_ had had enough, anyway, and I needed time away from its foul presence, so I told it to do whatever it wanted as long as it left me alone for the rest of the day. I have no idea what to do tomorrow. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Today, Obi-Wan assisted me in constructing a new lightsaber. This one will have a single blade. 

I had to remove my gloves. I felt exposed in doing so. It seems an inconsequential matter, but no one has ever seen my hands ungloved other than my Master. Until now. Until Obi-Wan. 

He asked me what color I intended to make my new lightsaber. I did not know how to answer. Had I a choice, I would have said green. It is the color of life, and I am weary of death and darkness. 

But Obi-Wan's lightsaber is green. Rather, the lightsaber he uses is green. His own was blue. The weapon he uses now belonged to his Master. No matter what my intent, he would take offense if I chose either of those colors. I know him well enough to realize that. 

In the end, I decided to make it red. In my hands, red has been the color of anger and of blood. But red is also the color of heat, which gives all living things under the sun the warmth needed to live and grow. I choose to see the color in that more positive aspect. 

The Sith method of weapon construction is not very different from the Jedi method. He corrected me only twice. The first time, he avoided touching me. The second time... 

The second time he was caught up in the task, forgetting his disgust for a moment. He moved to stand next to my chair as I worked, directing me over my shoulder. I enjoyed his proximity. I knew he would not approach me of his own volition, and as soon as he could, he would distance himself again. I decided to keep him there as long as possible. That he likely thinks me an incompetent idiot as a result is a small price to pay. Exasperated by my seeming ineptness, he finally leaned over and showed me what to do, then disassembled it and made me do it myself. 

I could feel his warmth. 

His red-gold hair is long now, reaching his shoulders. When he bent, it fell across his face, almost obscuring his features from my sight. I wanted to brush it back for him. Before I was aware of it, I had lifted my hand to do so. I pretended to scratch my cheek instead. 

I sense nothing but loathing from him. After I finished constructing the lightsaber, he ordered me to stay out of his sight for the rest of the day. He then fled our quarters. I left as well, intending to make use of my free time. I began by visiting Stores and asking for a few necessities. The requisitions master was reluctant to grant my requests. It took direct communication from Master Yoda to convince him that I should be served rather than skewered. 

Very few others among the Jedi were as open in their animosity towards me as Obi-Wan is when I passed through the halls of the Temple. But I sensed from them as I do from him that I am despised, unwelcome and unwanted. I wonder if the same sort of angry pulse is what others felt from me when I was a servant of the Dark Side. 

In a way, I am in the same position now as I was with my Master: surrounded by antipathy and distrust. The difference now is that I do not share it. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I didn't know what else to do with the creature, so I decided to start it off like the children: history lessons. The Masters began drilling names and dates into our heads when we were scarcely old enough to talk. Besides that, I hoped all the dull historical stuff would bore the creature enough to make it go away. 

No such luck. 

Noooo, the thing _likes_ history. The older the stuff, the happier it is. It did everything but press its nose up against the glass cases to get a good look at some of the old junk we've got in the Halls of Monuments. 

And questions! It was worse than a two-year-old! Wanting to know how old this was, what was that used for, how did they make this or that. Finally, I'd had enough and snapped. 

"How in the name of the sleeping gods should _I_ know? I never paid attention in history class," I told it. 

It looked at me like I'd just said I wanted to drop-kick a baby. 

I shrugged. "All I wanted was for it to be over so I could get to my gymnastics or pre-lightsaber training class. _Anything_ was more interesting as far as I was concerned." 

"But this is your history," it said, gesturing to encompass the whole room we were standing in at the time, one that had early versions of current technology: comlinks, testing screens, field gear units, stuff like that. It all looked a lot clunkier than what we've got now. 

"So? It's history. It's over. The present is more important--what's going on right now." 

The ghost of his voice whispered through my mind: "Keep your concentration on the here and now, where it belongs." He told me that so many times. I guess on some level it had finally sunk in. 

"You cannot understand the present without understanding the past," it said. 

I shook my head. "You sound like some of my teachers." 

"It is the truth," it insisted. "At the very least, you should honor the archives and artifacts housed here. They represent millennia of progress and learning. They are the foundation upon which your present is built. You are the foundation upon which the future is built. It is a never-ending chain, linking one generation from the next. To forget is to dishonor those who struggled to bring you to this point now." 

All right, I admit it. I was surprised. I never expected such eloquence from that thing, and even though it never raised its voice above its usual quiet tone, its words were so impassioned, I understood what _it_ meant far better than I had ever understood what my teachers had been trying to say. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

"Oh." 

That was the only response I got. Verbally, at least. His expression, however, was worth any number of words. He gaped at me as if he could not believe I was capable of higher thought such as that. 

History has always been an interest of mine, perhaps because I have so little of my own. 

"Don't you have an archive like this?" he asked. 

I looked at him and said nothing. I knew what he meant. I did not intend to acknowledge it. 

"The Sith," he repeated. "Don't you have an archive?" 

"I am not a Sith." 

I will say this as many times as need be for him to accept that I am no longer of the Dark Side. 

He sighed, exasperated with me for the hundredth time that day, and rolled his eyes. "All right, fine. Do the Sith--a group with which you have no further affiliation--have a place like this?" 

"No." 

I turned my gaze to a display of early proto-type holoprojectors, large bulky units unlike the elegant hand-held models we have now. I do not like discussing my past. I know that I must if I am ever to allay his distrust. However, I do not have to witness the disgust on his face while I speak of such matters. 

"The Sith have been in hiding for many centuries," I continued. "If they had marked their presence anywhere at any time, they would have risked discovery. My former Master possesses a small archive, one which is concise and portable. That is all." 

There was a long silence between us as I studied the artifacts, and he seemed to lose himself in thought. I forgot my discomfort with our topic as I became too engrossed in what I was seeing to pay attention to him. Thus his next question caught me unawares. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

It struck me that the reason it was so interested in the Temple history might be because it was spying for its Master, so I decided to put it to a test to see where its loyalty lay. 

"Speaking of your former Master," I began, and it turned to face me. Even through the tattoos, I could tell it was surprised. "Would you give us information about him?" 

I expected it to say no. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Obi-Wan asked me if I would give the Jedi information about my former Master. 

Of course I would. I would give him anything he asked for. He does not know this and would be appalled by the idea if he did, but it is true nonetheless. 

"Yes. You may ask me anything. I will answer truthfully," I told him. 

"Would you allow a mind probe?" The viciousness underlying his tone said he did not believe me. 

"I have already done so at the hands of every member of the Council. I would agree to it again if it is necessary to prove my honesty," I replied. "I will answer any question you like. I will provide as much information as you want about my former Master. It will do you no good, but you may have it." 

"Why?" he demanded, clenching his fists and advancing on me a step or two with naked ferocity in his expression. "Why wouldn't it help us?" 

"Because he is not a fool. He considers me a traitor because I did not kill you on Naboo as ordered. If he suspects I am still alive, he will assume I will provide information to his enemies. I can tell you where he was when I left him, but he will no longer be there, and any trace of him will be gone." 

He nodded, appearing to accept this. I was close enough to see his eyes. I watched them change color as he sorted through different reactions. I wished those chameleon eyes would look on me with something other than hatred and contempt. For a moment, that wish was strong enough to create a sharp ache in my gut. 

Then he narrowed those eyes in a shrewd, steady gaze leveled at me. 

"Why _didn't_ you kill me on Naboo?" 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I thought it was a simple enough question, but I still don't understand the answer. 

The creature just looked at me for a long time, those yellow, reptilian eyes totally unreadable, but this time I was able to meet its gaze and not feel an urge to flinch away. Then it shook its head slowly. 

"I will tell you anything you want to know, Obi-Wan. All you need do is ask. But you had best be certain you are ready to hear the answer first." 

I didn't have a response for that, so I cleared my throat, turned around and beckoned it to follow me into the next room, which was the Hall of Monuments where Jedi who have performed some exemplary service to the Order are honored. All four walls of the gigantic room display replica lightsabers with little plaques beneath each one identifying the Jedi who carried it and what they did to earn their place here. Scattered throughout the room are also some display cases of items belonging to certain revered Jedi of the past, along with a few holoprojectors with permanent displays, a lot like commemorative statues. 

One thing I've noticed is that people tend to speak in hushed voices in this room more than in any other; they walk more softly, move more slowly, and take time to linger. Even for me, this room has always instilled a sense of reverence and respect. Well... until recently, anyway. 

The creature and I circled the room at a leisurely pace. As with everything else, it wanted to take in the details, and for a while I was afraid it intended to read every plaque. We both remained silent for a long time. The creature was too busy peering at every little thing, and I had nothing to say. But when we had made a circuit of the room, it glanced around again, frowning a little as if it were trying to seek out something it had missed. 

Its question left me feeling cocooned in ice, but not speechless. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

"Where is Master Jinn's lightsaber?" 

"It's not here," Obi-Wan replied, and bitterness turned his voice harsh and cold. "It's never going to be here. According to the Council, he didn't do anything out of the ordinary in his service to the Order except get himself killed by the first Sith to come along in two thousand years." 

"But he stopped the Trade Federation's blockade." 

"Just fulfilling his mission," Obi-Wan sneered. "They give credit to Anakin for crippling the Trade Federation by blowing up their station, credit to Queen Amidala for creating an alliance with the Gungans and bringing peace to all of Naboo, and credit to me for..." He choked on the words, and I finished what he could not say. 

"For striking my clone down and bringing information of the resurgence of the Sith to them." 

He nodded, refusing to look at me, but I could see wetness on his lashes despite his eyes were screwed shut. 

Had I not known he would have grown angry, there are things I would have said to him. Had I not know it would have been repugnant to him, I would have touched him. Instead I waited until he composed himself, and then I suggested we continue to the next room.   



	2. Chapter 2

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

It's been two weeks, and I haven't killed the creature yet, and it hasn't tried to kill me. I think I'm shocked. Oh, it _frustrates_ me enough on a daily basis to make me want to hit it, but that's all. As much as I loathe to admit this, if it weren't for the horns and tattoos, I think... I think I might be in danger of believing its lies and forgetting it caused my life to become a living hell. And... when we're walking around the Temple and it's got the hood of its robe pulled up to hide its face, then sometimes... sometimes I _do_ forget. I hate myself and that miserable creature for that. I'm always glad when we return to our quarters and it takes the robe off so I can remember the truth. 

Somehow, we've stumbled into a routine, which is good because I've got no idea what to do with an adult Padawan. I'm making things up as I go, trying to remember my own training. I've even been asking for help with lessons, trying to learn what other Masters do with their Padawans. 

Not that I'm considering it _my_ Padawan! I'm not going to create a training bond with that thing, I don't care _what_ the Council orders me to do! 

But he... it's already been through training that qualifies it to be the equal of a Jedi Knight. It has similar Force skills and martial training, it just got the lessons from a different angle than what Jedi are taught. All it really has to do is apply what it already knows in a different way--focus on the Light instead of the Dark--and it pretty much taught itself how to do that before it even came here. What it doesn't know is the background, the philosophy, and the conceptual differences between the Sith and Jedi, so that's what we've been focusing on. 

Every day for the past two weeks, we've gone to the archives, and I've let it study the records. I'm letting it teach itself the history of the Temple since we've already had the discussion about _my_ expertise in that area. I heard from one of the historians that it's been coming here alone as well, asking a lot of questions. At first, they were suspicious, but they didn't see how telling it about history could do any harm, so they started talking to it. Now they practically fawn all over it whenever we see them. Personally, I think they just can't believe they found someone who actually cares about all this old junk. 

I asked him about that one day. I don't know why. It's not like I'm actually interested in its personal life, but... Anyway, I asked it why it liked history so much. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

"And don't give me all this 'foundation for the future' stuff either," Obi-Wan added with visible disdain. "That's the idealist answer. I want the _real_ answer." 

I watched him silently for a moment. I did not understand why he was asking. He had never exhibited any interest in me, my thoughts or my life before. Given his suspicious nature where I am concerned, I wondered what his motives were for asking now. 

I put aside the datapad I had been reading, still thinking and choosing my words with care. He would read hints and clues as to the hidden evil he felt certain I carried within me were I not cautious about what I said and how I said it. 

"I have no personal history," I said at last. I hoped that would satisfy him. 

But no. 

"So what does that mean?" He dropped into the chair across from mine with his usual negligent grace. 

"It means..." 

I hesitated again. He would likely suspect me of playing for sympathy when all I was doing was telling the simple truth. He always ascribed the worst possible motive to me. But the truth was the truth, and I could tell it no other way, not even to appease him. 

"When my former Master took me from my parents, he changed my name and my appearance. He never revealed any information about my life. I know nothing about my parents or my home world. All I know is him and the training I underwent at his hands." 

Obi-Wan scrunched up his face in the way I have learned means he does not fully understand or accept something I have said. "What do you mean, he changed your appearance?" 

I gave him a steady look. "I was not born looking like this. I appear to be of a race I am not. These horns, these eyes--they are mine by the power of the Dark Side, not genetics." 

"And the tattoos?" 

It was a bold question. Unexpected. 

"I acquired them when I completed my training and became a Sith Lord." 

"Why did he do that to you?" he asked, gesturing to the circle of horns I bore. 

I shrugged. "I do not know. Perhaps to hide my true identity. Perhaps to see if he could. If he was strong enough to affect another living being in such a way. I did not learn the truth myself until I was an adult. He chose to boast of his 'success' to me." 

"Oh." 

I often get that response from him. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I get the feeling it didn't have an easy life. 

It doesn't say much unless I ask direct questions, and even then, it says as little as possible, but when I read between the lines of its answers... Could anyone really have lived like that? Could anyone have survived all that? It sounds so harsh, so completely opposite of the life I've known. Going through my training was hard at times, but it was nothing like what he... it... describes. My Master would never have made me face assassin droids when I was sixteen! But out of curiosity one day, I asked the creature when it started training with the double-bladed lightsaber. He thought for a moment, then shrugged and said, "I do not know my age. However, I estimate I was in my mid-teens. It was around the time my Master began sending assassin droids that were set to kill after me." 

I was shocked and horrified. "Why?!" 

The creature looked at me as if the answer should have been obvious. "To test my senses and reflexes." 

He was so... matter-of-fact about it. As if he hadn't grown up under the influence of someone who considered his life worthless and considered him easily replaced if he'd ever failed. I could have left the Temple at any time, and they would have let me go. Regretfully, yes, but I wouldn't have been punished. From what I can tell, the creature would have been tracked down and killed if it had tried to leave. He was trained to serve the Dark Side, indoctrinated to serve his Master with unquestioning loyalty. Under that kind of influence, he should have stayed totally evil and unquestioningly loyal, but he didn't. He left his Master and came here. 

He chose to leave... 

No. 

No, I still think it's got an ulterior motive. He... _It_ is spying or trying to kill me to make up for its failure on Naboo. 

I can't let myself believe anything else. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I have found the life of a scholar to be pleasant. However, it can be nothing more than a temporary idyll. I wish to serve the Order. To do so, I must retain my martial skills. I must also confess desire to practice once more. I have always enjoyed that aspect of my training. 

I do not think I should ask Obi-Wan to practice with me. It would no doubt bring up too many unpleasant memories, and I have no wish to add more pain to that he already inflicts upon himself. 

For now, I will practice alone. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Master Yoda summoned me to a private meeting today. He informed me that the creature had requested permission to resume weapons practice--alone. It didn't mention wanting to practice to me. It's going behind my back! So much for establishing trust! 

I don't think it's a good idea to let the thing practice, but Master Yoda said he'd given permission and assigned it a small private room. I was about to protest when he added that the room had a monitoring system installed, and the creature would be under observation. That made me feel a little better. 

And then he said he wanted me to go watch it in action. Right then. 

I reluctantly followed Master Yoda to the observation room; the large-screen monitor gave a clear picture of the practice room and of the creature. I sat down and folded my arms, watching as I'd been ordered, but I wasn't interested. I'd already seen more than enough of that thing's fighting maneuvers, and I thought forcing me to watch--making me re-live the most painful moment of my life--was just another example of the Council's indifferent cruelty. 

I don't know how long the creature had been practicing, but it had been there long enough to work up a sweat. It had taken off its outer robe and tunic, going through its moves wearing only its leggings and boots. It looked a strange sight, from all appearances a normal Jedi from the waist down, but a demon from the waist up. At least I got my question about the tattoos answered. They covered his neck and shoulders, then gradually diminished to a V on his chest that appeared to be pointing down to... Well, not that I noticed where... I mean, why would I? 

When the creature finally finished and left, I told myself that the dampness on my palms was due to the heat in the cramped observation room. Before I could decide where the warm fluttering in my stomach had come from, Master Yoda turned to me and dispelled all concern about physical reactions with one short sentence. 

"Practice with him you will." 

It wasn't a request. 

"Master, I--" 

"A threat to you Maul is not," Master Yoda interrupted. "A threat to the Temple he is not. Wish him to become a Jedi, I do. Practice with him you will. Begin tomorrow. Teach him you will. Give you a few days to adjust I will. And then a training bond you will form." 

"Master, no!" I tried to protest, but he wouldn't hear it. It was as if my opinion, my feelings in the matter didn't count at all. "Master, please--I can't!" I was pleading now, begging if I had to. 

Master Yoda just looked at me. "Fear and anger are of the Dark Side. Afraid Maul is not. Angry Maul is not. Afraid and angry you are. Who should the Council worry about now?" 

I stared at him, stunned. How could he possibly compare the two of us? 

"Meditate on your anger. Find the fear behind the anger you must and then remove both you will." 

"I _know_ why I'm angry," I snarled. "It plans to kill me--to finish what it started on Naboo!" 

"No," Master Yoda said calmly before waddling away and leaving me there alone to puzzle over his cryptic words. "Wish to kill you he does not. Fear death at his hands you do not. Search deeper. You will learn." 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I'm going insane. I really am. The Council has pushed me too far, and now I'm teetering on the brink of madness because of their demands. 

I practiced with the creature today like I was ordered. He's good--very good. I knew that already, but facing him like this... 

It's different. On Naboo, first I was trying to survive, and then I was trying to kill. It was hard to forget all that when we started sparring, but... 

I don't know. I guess being here in the Temple made a difference. I'm in a safe environment, and I didn't feel the threat from him... it... like I did then. All I had to do was call out, and someone would have been in there to help if it had tried to hurt me. We were both trying to win, but it was a competition, not a life-or-death struggle. 

I didn't get angry. I thought I would, but I didn't, I just wanted to win again, and I would have, but even while adjusting to a new, smaller weapon, he's good. 

And sneaky! I need to remember to think outside the lines because he certainly does. 

Anyway, the practice went well enough, and I thought I had it beaten when it surprised me, and I ended up disarmed and pinned, and... 

No, I imagined it. I'm sure I did. My brain is finally beginning to snap after all I've been through. That's the only explanation for it! But madness or not... for a moment, I swear I felt like he was going to kiss me... 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I nearly lost control today. 

That cannot happen. 

I nearly kissed him. To do so now would ruin everything. He is not ready. He is still too much like a skittish animal. Any sudden, unexpected moves, and he will bolt. He would also be repulsed. I cannot risk giving in to my impulses. Not now. Perhaps not ever. 

I do not know if I will ever be able to overcome the antipathy he bears me. If I must remain silent forever, then I will do so. I would rather keep the truth hidden from him and in doing so remain near him than reveal all and risk being sent away. 

And if I can have moments... Fleeting moments such as today... 

I disarmed and pinned him against a wall. We stood frozen as if in a tableau. He appeared surprised that I had bested him. I was determined to prolong the moment. 

I could feel the heat of his body as I stood close, touching him only where I held his arms against the wall. The scent of his skin rising like a heated musk reached my nose. I breathed it deeply. 

He was breathing hard, almost panting. His lips were parted. All I had to do was lean forward, and his mouth would have been mine. I could have tasted him. I could have closed my mouth over his chin and made love to the cleft with my tongue as I have long wanted to do. 

I could have. I did not. 

I felt myself stirring with arousal. I backed away and let him go before he realized how my body was reacting to his. 

It was difficult to do. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

The creature is gone. 

It just... left. No word, no message. I got up this morning, and it was gone. 

I checked its room, but it was hard to tell if it had taken all its belongings because it didn't have much to begin with. At first I thought that was because it had been on the run from its Master and had been forced to leave everything behind, but even after a whole month of being settled here at the Temple, it still hadn't accumulated any... well, _stuff_. It had clothes, some datapads, and that's about it, so I guess the minimalism is part of its nature. 

Everything was still there, and when I told Master Yoda it had gone, probably to report back to its Master all it had learned, he said knew where it was, and it would be back. He didn't say when, though. 

With any luck... never. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I had thought things were going more smoothly between us. 

I was wrong. 

We had developed a routine. A tolerable if not comfortable pattern for cohabitation. I had learned what sort of behavior was expected from a Padawan towards his or her Master, and I adopted it. I provided the meals except when he wished to visit the dining hall. I cleaned our quarters. 

Although that I would have done even if it were not among the duties of a Padawan. I did not realize Obi-Wan is such an... untidy man. I do not clean his room, however. Out of respect for his privacy, I stay away from it. I also stay away to protect myself as I would likely go mad with the desire to clear it out. He has a habit of accumulating... stuff. 

I do not. I was taught not to cling to material things. Power. Hatred. Anger. Those mattered. The cluttery detritus of a human life was inconsequential. Even now it is difficult for me to break the habit of not taking any possessions. 

I thought our routine meant he had become more accepting of my presence. I thought sensing no surge of hostility when we sparred together was a positive sign. 

The fault is mine. I pushed when I should have remained silent. Still... I cannot regret my actions but so much. He has wrapped himself in illusions. He needs something to shock him out of his self-imposed prison. 

He spends a great deal of time in meditation. My opinion is it is an excuse to avoid me more than an attempt to regain his balance. Last night I asked him why Jedi meditate. 

"To gain inner peace," he answered. After a moment, he had a question of his own. "Why do Sith meditate?" 

"To gain control," I replied. And then I made my mistake. "You meditate so often. Where, then, is your peace?" 

"I have peace!" He was all but snarling at me, and I almost laughed. 

"I sense no such thing from you," I told him with blunt honesty. "Your spirit is not tranquil. Your mind is not at rest." 

"You think so?" He took a step towards me, his hands clenched into fists. "Then it's your doing! I haven't had any peace since--" 

He broke off then, but I heard what he did not say. In his mind, I had destroyed his peace when I killed his Master. He still believed that. Nothing had convinced him, not even the words of the Council. There was one way to prove my innocence--for him to perform a mind probe himself and search my memories--but I knew he would not do it. He did not want proof of my innocence as that would remove the convenient target for his anger, fear and hatred. It would require him to look within himself for the problem, and he was not willing to do that yet. Far better and easier to blame me. 

"That is not my fault," I replied. "In two ways. I did not kill Qui-Gon--" 

I believe what he did then is commonly called a "sucker punch." I saw the blow coming. I could have avoided it. I did not. I allowed the blow to land. I did not sway or stumble. 

I grew angry. 

"Don't you say that name!" he shouted, his face red with fury. "Don't you dare taint his memory by speaking of him!" 

"Why?" I sneered. "Because you will not? I have never heard you utter your Master's name. Why is that, little Jedi?" 

I stalked him. I closed in. He did not flinch or move. I grabbed the braid that fell over his shoulder and wound it around my fist. 

"Why have you not removed this?" I demanded. "You are a Knight, not a Padawan." 

"That is none of your concern," he ground out through clenched teeth. 

Our gazes were locked. We were fighting a battle of wills. 

"Do you feel unworthy?" I asked, and he shook his head violently but did not speak. "Is that it? You failed to save his life, so you must do penance for the rest of yours?" 

I yanked the braid, forcing him to come close to me. He was furious. He grabbed double handfuls of my tunic at the throat. 

"Let go of me," he snarled, and I did laugh then. 

"Or what? You will kill me?" I gave his braid another yank--hard--yet he still did not flinch. 

We were both angry. Both breathing hard. So close I could all but feel the beating of his heart. I wanted to throw him to the floor. To take him. To hear him moan and see him writhe beneath me. To make him forget his rage and despair. Despite my anger at his continued stubbornness, I wanted him, and the wanting was a steady rhythm pounding in my blood as we stared intently at each other. 

"No." He curled his lip with disdain. "I will make you wish you were dead." 

"As you wish you were." 

"Stop it, damn you!" 

He began struggling to free himself, and I relented. I let go of his braid, and he pushed himself away from me, stepping backwards and looking at me as if there would be no greater pleasure for him at that moment than seeing me dead on the floor. Preferably by his hands. 

"If I have no peace now," he said, drawing himself up with as much dignity and calm as he could muster, "it's your fault. How can I know peace when every day I must look at the face of the monster that killed the person who meant most to me?" 

In a sense, he was right. 

The monster that killed his Master wore this face. But this is not _my_ face. Not anymore. This is not the face I was born with. It is not the face that reflects who I am now. 

But there is an answer.   



	3. Chapter 3

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

All right, I admit it. It's my fault the creature's gone. I was... I was unfair. I said some things I shouldn't have, and if the thing really _is_ trying to change... Well, what I said probably didn't help. 

But damn it, I just can't believe all that "he's not a threat" nonsense Master Yoda keeps telling me! It's a _Sith_! It killed him! It tried to kill me! And now all of a sudden, it wants to walk away from everything it ever knew and start over on the other side? It just doesn't make sense. Why would it do that? What could possibly motivate such a drastic change? 

I don't know... I don't know anything anymore. Everything's all so jumbled up in my head. I can't meditate, and my balance is gone. I've tried looking along the Force to the future, but I can't see anything. It's all gray and misty, like there's too many choices for one clear path to stand out, or maybe I'm just too messed up to see clearly. Sometimes I get a feeling... a vague image of someone near me, but it's blurry. It's not that creature, though. It can't be, because this person feels... 

Well, it's just different, that's all. 

Master Yoda insists that the creature hasn't gone back to its Master. He knows a lot more than he's telling me, and I'm getting tired of not knowing what's going on. There's not much I can do about it, though. 

The thing I hate most... The thing I hate to admit... I'd gotten used to having that creature around. It was quiet, but it was there, and it tried to help. It made the meals every day, it kept the common area clean, and I got used to preparing lessons for it. It was a challenge to see what I could come up with, to discuss the differences between his training and mine... 

Gods above and below--what is wrong with me that I accepted companionship from that monster on _any_ level? How could I betray him like that? I'm making a mockery of him, his life, everything he taught me. 

But Anakin is a child. He couldn't or wouldn't talk to me, and Sith-creature it may be, but it's also an adult. It's got a clever mind, and it seems to enjoy learning. The few times I relaxed enough to talk it, I... enjoyed the conversation. 

And... if it really is trying to break away from the Dark side, then... then I shouldn't have been so harsh. Not that it pulled any punches with _me_ either. Far from it. 

What annoys me most of all is the damned thing was right. It can see inside me. It understands me. No one, not even Master Yoda, has said anything like that to me before, but this creature cut right to my heart and laid it open. Is that some sort of Sith trick? Did it probe my mind? Or did it just make a lucky guess? That's one question I'll never know the answer to because I'm not giving it the satisfaction of knowing it shook me. 

I wonder when it's coming back. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I have returned. 

From Obi-Wan's reaction, one would think I am more of an oddity now than I was before I left. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

This is an OUTRAGE! 

How could they allow this to happen? 

That--that--THING must not have told the Council what it was going to do. It sneaked around to make this happen. I know it. And I'm going to report this! They'll have to face its treachery now! 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Obi-Wan was surprised by the change. 

I returned to our quarters during the time he is normally gone to the training arena for practice. My timing was deliberate as I wanted to be waiting for him when he returned. I was... curious as to how he would react. 

When he arrived, he looked at me with confusion at first. Then realization sank in. He turned white. Then red. Then he stormed off without a word. 

I heard him talking to Master Windu. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Master Windu talked, and Obi-Wan yelled. 

I see he has done nothing to regain his peace. 

I did not intend to eavesdrop. However, I could not help but hear his side of the conversation which consisted mostly of insults regarding my ancestry, personal habits, and sexual practices, and demands for my permanent removal from the Temple. He seemed to think I had not consulted anyone before making this change. He was wrong. 

I made tea. 

When he finally emerged from his room, he was still scowling. He threw himself on the couch and sat there, his arms crossed and his expression belligerent. 

I offered him a cup of tea. He refused. I sat down and began drinking the tea myself before addressing a matter which needed to be resolved. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

All right, so I made a mistake. 

Master Windu said that the creature petitioned the Council about this, and they gave it permission. So they knew. They just didn't see fit to tell _me_ about it. 

So I walked in my quarters today to see some stranger in a Padawan uniform standing there. It took me a moment to realize who it was--and then I was furious. 

The Sith-creature has had its horns and tattoos removed. It looks just like any other human! Appearances are definitely deceiving in this case. 

I can hardly stand looking at it. I barely paid attention to what it looks like now. Dark hair that's very short. That's all I know. When I finished talking to Master Windu and the creature offered me tea, I didn't look at it when it approached. Not even when it held out the cup. 

"Tea, Master?" 

Yes, it was the creature, all right. There was no mistaking the voice. I didn't know anyone else who had a smooth, deep voice that was always so softly-pitched, yet that had such an impact. 

"No." I tried not to look, but still I could see his hands out of the corner of my eye, holding the cup, offering it to me. Those long fingers, callused from years of training... 

The next thing I knew, it was sitting across from me, drinking the tea I'd refused, and then it said, "I have a name." 

I glanced at it, then quickly looked away again. "What?" 

It kept on sitting there and drinking the tea calmly, never raising its voice above its usual quiet level. "I am not 'it' or 'thing' or 'that Sith-creature'. I have a name. Maul. M. A. U. L. I am certain it is not the name I was born with, but it is the only name I know, and I will not change it now." He paused, took another sip of tea and added in a conversational tone, "I am weary of being dehumanized because of your irrational refusal to accept the truth." 

Unfortunately, I didn't have a reply to that. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

This face pleases me. 

It is not beautiful, like Obi-Wan's, but it pleases me. I look in the mirror now, and I see the man I should have been. Not the monster I became. 

My past is behind me. All ties are severed. 

I will recreate my life as the Healers recreated the face I should have had all along. I will be worthy of the Jedi. I will be worthy of Obi-Wan. 

This face pleases me. I wonder if it will ever please him. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I really wish he hadn't made this change. 

It's harder to remember that Maul's _not_ just another Jedi. He looks normal, he acts normal... Well, normal-ish, anyway. The constant reminder of what he was... is... is gone. I can't see him as a Sith now. Not enough to keep my walls up as I could before. It doesn't help that he's... 

By the Force, why did he have to be attractive?! 

He's not handsome, really. His features are too unconventional for that. His nose is too big for his face, which is narrow and almost seems to come to a point at his chin. But there's something about him... a subtle aura of serenity and strength, perhaps. And he does have nice eyes--dark blue and intense. And his hands... 

I tried to ignore him, but you can't live with someone and not notice how they look no matter how hard you try. And now... now I find I can't _stop_ looking. 

He's got dark hair, and he's letting it grow into the Padawan style. He really seems to be taking this whole Master-Padawan thing seriously. He's got a ponytail started in the back and even a short skein of hair just behind his ear that he's letting grow. But he hasn't braided it. I know what he's doing. He's waiting for _me_ to braid it for him like I should do as his "Master." To... accept him, I guess. But I just can't do that. 

And that mouth. A thin upper lip, but that lower lip... I find myself staring and wanting to find out what it tastes like, to suck it... I haven't had feelings like this since... since... 

It's not right! I shouldn't feel these things--not for him! Not for the man who killed my Master! 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Obi-Wan and I are engaged in an uneasy dance. 

I sense his confusion. I notice him watching me. These things give me hope. Yet I know he is still unwilling to admit the truth about me, about his emotions. About anything. He wishes to hide. To stay safe. 

I cannot allow that to continue. He is a Jedi Knight. I sense a greatness about him that will never reach its fullest potential unless he releases the anger and fear that are holding him back. 

I cannot rush him, however. He must be led slowly, or he will run. I must be careful. Right now, I am playing the role of Dutiful Padawan. I prepare meals. I serve him tea. We have discussions. That is all. 

More and more I feel his blue-green eyes on me, but he will not touch me voluntarily. The only contact we have is during practice, and that is by accident. He uses my name now, but that is the only concession to my humanity he appears to have made. 

At the moment, I do not know how to go about breaking down the walls he has surrounded himself with. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Something happened tonight... something unexpected... I'm not sure how I feel about it yet... 

One year ago today, my Master died on Naboo. 

At first, I was deliberately hateful to Maul. It was _his_ doing, after all, and I felt such a cold, sick anger inside just thinking about it, but he didn't even seem to notice. Maybe it's the kind of behavior he expects from me, and today wasn't any different, just a little more intense. 

Anyway... I was angry and looking for a target--any target. 

When we sparred today, I went after him--I kept advancing, kept hammering him, giving him no room to maneuver or breathe. I just kept on attacking and attacking, and he just let me. 

Finally I realized what I was doing--turning a practice session into a real fight--and I stopped. We'd both stripped out of our tunics, and I looked at him standing there, panting, and the sun filtered through the window fell across his bare chest. I could see beads of sweat dappling his skin. He was tired from blocking my intense attacks, but he looked as calm as always, and he held his lightsaber at the ready in case I lunged at him again. 

And in that moment, I felt my anger drain away. I knew what he was doing: giving me a release by allowing himself to be the target I needed and wanted. For just that instant, it was perfectly clear in my head, and I knew he wasn't angry, that he didn't blame me for taking out my negative emotions on him, that he was trying to help me. 

What I don't understand is _why_. Unless it's out of guilt. He wants to atone for what he's done. 

For a moment, I was grateful--and then I remembered who he was. A Sith. A murderer. He probably had ulterior motives for what he'd done. 

I turned away from him, trying to calm down. And then suddenly I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, sliding over to rest against the back of my neck beneath my hair. I felt my entire body go tense, but it was divided on the reason. Part of me was tense because I didn't want him touching me. The other part of me was tense because I _did_. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I do not know how long we stood there like that. I had not planned on taking such an action. It was an impulse. One that I cannot say I regret. The memory of his hot, damp skin still lingers in my hand, and I will not soon forget it. 

One touch. But I wanted more. I wanted to run both hands along his back. To touch the well-defined muscle. To trace the indentation of his spine. I wanted to slide my arms around him and hold him against me. I wanted to brush aside his hair and give the back of his neck a hundred little nipping kisses just to watch him shiver. 

Instead, I dropped my hand away when I felt him tense. 

"Do you wish to continue, Master?" I asked, trying to sound polite and distant. Years of practice at controlling my reactions served me well now. I do not think he realized how much I desired him. 

He shook his head. 

"You need release," I said. "Let me give it to you." 

"I..." He fell silent for a long time. When he spoke again, it was with reluctance. "You already have. Today has been... difficult." 

"Yes." A strange boldness overcame me, and I stepped close behind him. Close enough to feel the heat emanating from his body, and my own breathing quickened. I rested my hand on his hip, squeezing it gently. We are so close in height, so well-matched. I wanted to mold myself against him. "You must let go before you can heal." 

To my surprise, he did not pull away from me. When he spoke, his voice was ragged. 

"I know. It's just so difficult... I feel responsible... I could have done something..." 

I took advantage of the moment. I realize this. It could have been a mistake, but I do not regret it. I placed my other hand on his other hip and tugged him backwards just enough that his back grazed my chest. He did not lean against me, but he did not resist either. I gave in to the temptation to rest my cheek on his shoulder. 

"Anything you could have done differently would have resulted in your death as well," I told him. "The Force meant for you to survive. You have a destiny. I sense it. Qui-Gon's task was finished. Yours has not yet begun." 

At the mention of his Master's name, a dry sob hitched his chest, and I tightened my grasp on his hips, pulling him closer. It was not an embrace, but it would suffice for now. Such simple contact. People exchange a thousand casual touches in a day. I am learning the healing power of touch now after a lifetime of deprivation. 

"I want him back..." His voice was barely audible, but the words reached me. Sliced into me. "I love him..." 

Now I know. I am battling not one but two ghosts: that of the clone who killed his Master and that of his lover. 

I wonder if I can ever win when Obi-Wan is determined to dwell among the dead rather than join the dance of the living. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I've been waiting for this. I thought it would come sooner, but I suppose with all the changes Maul has been through, they put it off a little longer. 

But today it happened: we were summoned in front of the Council so they could assess Maul's progress. 

I have to admit... I was of two minds about it. Part of me hoped they'd find some hidden darkness lurking in him, some concealed piece of planned treachery, and then they'd banish him. Or kill him, but I don't want... Well, if that's going to happen, let it be by _my_ hands. 

The other part of me was afraid of failure. Not his but mine. I'm supposed to be his Master, but I haven't taken the task seriously, and if he's made any progress, it's been because of his own desire to change and learn, not because of any help I've given him. I won't even bond with him even though Master Yoda said he would order me to if necessary. 

They let me stay in the Council Chamber while they mentally probed and interrogated him. Maul knelt in the middle of the room and entered a light meditative state. Each of the twelve Council members had their chance to search his mind, and then some of them had another go at him in pairs or groups of three or four, using their combined strength to make certain they missed nothing and there was no part of his mind they couldn't access. 

I tried to imagine what that would be like, and just the thought made me shiver. Maul had been turned inside out, every private place in his mind being entered and examined. At the end, they would know everything about him and his life; he would have no secrets from any of them. He couldn't--if he tried to hide anything, it would be grounds for suspicion and would probably mean his death. 

Not a word was spoken aloud, and they locked me out of the proceedings, but I could feel the crackle of energy in the air. The entire room was bursting with Force-energy, so much that it was almost oppressive at times, and I was glad it wasn't me who was the focus of all that intense energy. 

When it was over, Maul was almost prostrate on the floor, pale, sweating and shaking, but he still managed to stand up and bow to the Council. Then he wavered, looking like he was going to stumble backwards, and without even thinking, I went to his side and put my hand on the center of his back, steadying him. I don't know why, not even now, hours later. I just... did it. 

The look he gave me contained unspoken gratitude, but I ignored it. I just wanted to hear what the Council had to say about him. 

"You have done well, Maul." Master Windu was the first to speak. "Even the most skeptical among us agree that we sense no lingering trace of the Dark Side in you. You still have much to learn before you can truly claim to be of the Light, but you are on the path." 

Maul nodded but didn't speak. 

"Taught you well your Master has," Master Yoda said, giving me one of those piercing looks that always makes me feel like I'm two years old again. "But bonded you have not. Time it is." 

I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could say a word, Maul cut me off. 

"No." 

Master Yoda turned That Look on him, but he didn't flinch or look away, which is more than many a Jedi in the Temple can say. He's either braver than I thought... or more stupid. 

"I will not accept a bond unless my Master is willing. If the bond is created out of obligation, then it is useless. The point of having it is undermined." 

"You don't want a Master-Padawan bond with your Master?" Master Windu asked, narrowing his eyes as he stared at Maul, adding his no-nonsense look to Master Yoda's. 

"I do not want it if my Master does not want it." 

Maul was calm and matter-of-fact. I knew that tone. It meant he had made up his mind, and as far as he was concerned, that was how matters would be. The irresistible force of the Council was facing the immovable object known as Maul's will for the first time, and my credits were on Maul. 

"What says Knight Kenobi?" Master Yoda was back to me now, and I had to repress the urge to fidget. 

"I'm... not ready," I admitted. "I'm sorry, Master, but I can't do that now. I need more time." 

Master Yoda nodded slowly. There was a moment of silence and another hum along the Force as if a buzz of communication was going on around us. 

Finally Master Windu spoke again. "Then time you will have. By the order of the Council, you are solely responsible for Padawan Maul's training until such time as he is ready to face his Trials and become a Jedi Knight. You're his Master now, Knight Kenobi. Permanently." 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Obi-Wan asked me to meditate with him tonight. 

It is the first time he has ever asked such a thing of me. I do not know why he decided to ask now. Perhaps the meeting with the Council and being appointed my permanent Master has caused him to take his assigned duty more seriously. 

Whatever the reason, he asked. I accepted. 

"Sit." He barely glanced at me as he ordered me to take a seat on the floor of the common area. It was the safest place. Normally he meditated in the privacy of his room, but going to his room or mine would have been too intimate for him to tolerate at this point, I imagine. 

I sat as he instructed and waited. He sat down across from me and moved close enough so that our knees just barely touched. 

"I haven't been doing well with this by myself," he admitted, less grudgingly than I thought he would. "You're grounded. I can feel that, and I want your help in regaining my own balance." 

"As you wish, Master." The polite words did nothing to convey the pleasure I felt at that moment. Not only because he had asked my help but also because he was taking a necessary first step towards healing. 

He grunted an acknowledgment, then closed his eyes. I did the same. As we were not bonded, I did not expect any sort of mental connection with him. I simply worked on grounding and centering myself as I always did. 

Being near him made that easier. I was content having him so close. Voluntarily at that. I was pleased. 

My mind slowly cleared of all extraneous thoughts as I focused on my breath. They drifted down, and I let them go until I reached the state of prolonged non-thought. I felt Obi-Wan's presence along the Force, but I did not consider it wise to reach out to him. 

Then I realized something was coiling around my mind, twining inextricably with it. It was none of my doing. I expanded my awareness, and with a shock I felt Obi-Wan in my mind. And myself in his. 

The Force was swirling around us, an almost palpable presence. I could feel it humming between us. It was linking us. Obi-Wan had not reached for this bond that was forming anymore than had I. The Force was letting us know its will in no uncertain terms. 

I relaxed and let the Force work through me. I had not chosen this, but as it was the will of the Force, I would not hinder it either. I felt Force-tendrils in my mind, winding a thread between myself and Obi-Wan. I felt the utter peace of its presence. I felt Obi-Wan's outrage and frustration. He was fighting it. 

I felt the Force like a gentle touch. It sang to me of peace and hope. I have never felt it in such a way before. The Dark Side was always rough and chaotic. This was... There are no words. Serenity does not begin to cover the all-encompassing harmony I felt, not only within myself but with everything around me. 

This is what I have missed. This is what my former Master kept me from finding. This is what I have craved my entire life. 

I think I may have smiled. 

I wanted to laugh. 

And through it all, Obi-Wan struggled. He could not accept the gift. He saw it as a burden. 

He cried out. His outburst brought me out of myself. 

"We're bonded!" he snarled. 

I nodded. "Yes." 

"What did you do?" he demanded. "Damn you, tell me! How did you do that?" 

I knew he was stubborn. I did not think he was stupid or oblivious. It was disappointing to be proven wrong. 

I rose to my feet. "Are you so cut off from the Force that you can no longer feel it working within you? This was none of my doing. I have neither the strength nor the skill to force a bond." 

I was frustrated. I wanted to shake him until he finally stopped acting like the fool I knew he was not. How could he not recognize the sublime splendor of what had just occurred? How could he take an experience so pure and beautiful and make it ugly? 

"Will you now go to the Council to accuse me of mind rape?" I stared down at him where he sat on the floor looking stunned. Perhaps because of what had happened. Perhaps because of what I was saying. Perhaps both. "Will you add this to the ever-growing list of my alleged crimes? We are bonded. The Force created the link between us. You are lying to yourself, to me and to the Force itself if you say otherwise." 

I left. I retreated to my room, and I have been here ever since. I am not eager to face him again. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

We're bonded. He's in my head, and I'm in his, and I can't do a damn thing about it because _I_ didn't do it, I didn't ask for it, it just happened, and if I sever it... If I sever the bond and the Council, especially Master Yoda, ever found out, they'd demand answers, and somehow I just don't think "because I didn't want it" would be good enough. 

I've clamped down my shields as tight as possible, but I can still feel him, and I know he must feel me. We're joined. The Force has bound us together until... when? Until he faces his Trials? Will it allow me to be free of him then? But what if neither of us can sever the bond once he's Knighted? What if I'm bound to him for the rest of my life, forced to endure his presence with me always... until one of us dies... 

It's too much... I don't know how much more of this I can take. I already feel on the verge of exploding, and now this... I need a break. 

I keep thinking things can't possibly get worse, and then they do. I need an escape from the hell my life has become. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I did not know Jedi allow themselves to become intoxicated. 

Intoxication clouds the mind and the senses, the accompanying disorientation cutting off our connection with the Force. We leave ourselves vulnerable to attack and to temptation from the Dark Side. We cannot function mentally or physically with optimal effectiveness. We are more likely to make mistakes that will jeopardize our training. We risk much with only one drink. I had assumed consuming alcohol was not allowed. My Master would have punished me if I had ever partaken. Perhaps here in the Temple, it is discouraged but not forbidden. 

Obi-Wan left not long after our meditation session. I felt his agitation along our new bond. I also felt him weaving tight shields around his mind. To protect himself from me, no doubt. I considered it likely that he thought I would attempt to take advantage of the bond. That I would probe his mind, search his memories, perhaps even try to take control of him. 

Hours passed. I assumed he had gone to lament his fate to the Council. Perhaps to meditate. When I felt the mental shields between us begin to slip and strange emotions began leaking through to me, I knew he had done neither. 

I could sense his alcohol-induced good humor along our bond. I did not realize he was intoxicated. I was aware of the effects of alcohol in a theoretical sense and had seen intoxicated beings a number of times while serving on missions for my Master. However, I had never experienced the state myself, and my observations of it had been few and brief. I was curious to know what had prompted such a vast change in Obi-Wan's attitude. I ventured into the common area and waited until he arrived home. 

In the early morning hours, he stumbled in. 

His eyes were glassy. He was disheveled. But he exuded a sense of relaxation such as I had never witnessed from him before. He wove in place where he stood. I approached him, thinking to assist him. I caught the sharp tang of alcohol fumes. I then realized the cause of his present attitude. It was not real. It would wear off as soon as he was sober. 

He staggered to the couch and flung himself down. I sat down on the other end of the couch. 

"Perhaps you should go to bed," I suggested. 

"Nah... s'too early..." 

He smiled at me then. An open, friendly smile unlike anything I had ever seen directed at me before. So charming. So enticing. Why would he not smile in that way when sober as well? 

While I silently wished to be the recipient of such a look, Obi-Wan made an unexpected move. I found myself the recipient of something entirely different. 

He dragged himself over to my end of the couch and draped his arm across my shoulders, staring intently at me. I stared back. I did not know what to expect. Certainly not what happened. 

"You've got a beautiful mouth. Didja know that?" As he spoke, he reached out and caressed my lower lip, tracing it with a feathery touch of his forefinger. 

I froze. 

"No. I have not been told that." 

I sounded calm. I did not feel calm. I was divided between arousal and annoyance that he had waited until he was drunk to reveal his attraction to me, when I could not in good conscience do anything about it. 

"Well, you do..." He leaned forward, still stroking my lips. "I wanna... I wanna do stuff to it..." 

Images of the sort of "stuff" he might want to do rose up in my mind. I attempted to ease away from him before he realized that aspects of my person were rising other than merely my thoughts. 

He clamped his arm tighter around me and would not allow me to leave. 

No. That is untrue. He was in a weakened condition. Had I truly wanted to free myself, I could have done so. I did not. 

"Wouldja let me?" 

He leaned closer. I felt the warmth of his breath on my cheek. I felt the first stirrings of desire, not only in myself but along our bond as well. His shields were down. I sensed his emotions almost as strongly as my own. Had he been in an alert state, he would not have needed to ask. He would have known I would have allowed him to do nearly anything he wanted to my mouth or to any other part of me. 

He pressed me back against the arm of the couch. He moved over me until I lay partially beneath him. He touched my face, gazing at me with a naked longing I had never thought to see. 

I should have said no. I should have pushed him away and left him there. I should have resisted him. 

I could not. 

The moment his lips touched mine, I gave up rational thought. I did not care that he was intoxicated. I did not care that he would probably not remember the encounter, and if he did, he would be displeased. 

His passion flared up bright and strong. I reached for it. I answered it with my own. I kissed him. I ran my tongue over his lips, tasting him for the first time. It was more than I had dared hope for. I probed gently in his mouth, wanting to taste him deeper and growing more aroused than I thought possible when he let me. He was as delicious as I knew he would be. Our tongues twined and mated. He moaned into my mouth, and I swallowed the sound, reveling in it. I lost the fingers of one hand in his hair, cradling the back of his head in my palm to keep his mouth on mine. I hooked my other hand behind his knee in an attempt to bring our bodies closer together. 

A feverish heat claimed me. All I wanted was to touch him. To taste him. At that moment, he was willing. I gave no thought to the future or to regret. I gave myself over to the longing, the burning ache that had been nestled within me ever since the moment I saw him. He was malleable in my hands, all heat and soft moans. I maneuvered us both to a sitting position. 

A simple application of the Force, and his belt slithered to the floor. I pushed his tunics aside, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck to his torso. I wanted to taste all of him _now_. I wanted to touch all of him _now_. But I could not. I settled for flicking my tongue over his nipple until it was hard. Until I heard him gasping. I blew on it. He arched against me. He captured double-handfuls of my sleep-shirt and held me against him. 

He wanted me. I was pleasing him, and he desired me as much as I desired him. In that transcendent moment, I was joyous. 

I closed my mouth over his nipple, sucking and teasing it. He squirmed beneath me. When I ran my hand down his body, I felt his erection. I cupped it through the fabric of his leggings. I stroked it lightly. He threw his head back and moaned, lifting his hips to my touch. 

I wanted to explore at a leisurely pace. In my dreams, we had taken hours to make love for the first time. But this was reality, and desire had me in its fiery grip. 

I could resist no longer. 

I unfastened his leggings and pushed them down his hips enough for me to free his shaft. I closed my hand around it, and he gripped my shoulder tightly. 

"Yes... Force, yes... please..." 

It was all the invitation I needed. 

I moved off the couch and knelt between his legs. I had thought about this moment often. It was not quite the way I had hoped it would be, but the rational part of my brain had fled. I only thought of exploring him as I had longed to do, of pleasing him, of worshipping his beauty with my body instead of only with my thoughts. 

I nuzzled him with my lips, savoring the feel of soft, warm skin over iron hardness. I mouthed his sac, drawing hoarse cries from him. And all the while, I stroked up and down in a slow, lazy rhythm with my hand. I wanted him mad with need. He was panting. He clutched the cushions. He began moving his hips, thrusting against my hand. 

When I replaced my hand with my mouth, he cried out. I thought he would come right then, but he did not. I drew him in as deeply as I could, savoring not only the taste of him but also the knowledge that I was pleasing him. I withdrew, wriggling my tongue along the underside as I did, and he bucked sharply. His moment was drawing near, and I confess I was eager as well. My own desires had been held in check for too long for me to be slow and easy now. 

I stroked him with my mouth and tongue, faster and harder. I grasped his hips, stilling his thrusts, silently urging him along our bond, adding my pleasure and desire to his until I felt the coiling pleasure bring his body to the breaking point. 

As he shook with release, as his seed spurted in my throat, as I felt the satisfaction of thinking I had pleased my lover, he shouted. 

"Yes! Oh, yes, Qui-Gon! Yes!"   



	4. Chapter 4

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I woke up this morning feeling sicker than I ever have before in my life. I was stupid to have gone out and gotten drunk like that. It was running away from my problems, not facing them, and I know better. He taught me better. The only good thing about last night was the dream I had about... 

About my... my Master. 

It was incredible--so vivid! Even now, if I close my eyes, I can still feel him, feel his mouth on me, all over me... 

It was a dream of what I wish had occurred in the waking world when I still had the chance. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Obi-Wan does not appear to remember the events of last night. 

Good. 

I have no intention of reminding him. 

I do not know what to do now. Whether I should keep trying to ease into his affections or abandon the attempt as a lost cause. I must consider this further. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I really hope that was just a dream last night. 

When I was in the bathing room this morning, I noticed bruises on my left hip that look like they could've been formed by someone holding me there too hard, and my neck and chest are covered with light abrasions, almost as if from beard stubble. 

No, it was a dream. It had to be because otherwise, who--? 

Maul's been quiet today. 

Well... he's always quiet, but I mean moreso than usual. 

It's strange, but in some ways he reminds me of-- 

Well, of my Master. He doesn't talk a whole lot unless he's got something to say or if someone gets him started on some abstract philosophical idea. In that, they're just alike. Maul's serious, too. I've never seen him laugh or even smile. It's not because of his teeth anymore either because he got those fixed too. My Master didn't smile or laugh easily either, but at least he _did_ on occasion. But I guess Maul doesn't have much of a reason to smile around me. I don't know. 

He's also calm in the same way. I get the same feeling from him, like he's grounded and centered and not a whole lot can shake him. Whatever happens, he'll just deal with it calmly and quietly, but he won't let it get to him and rattle his peace. 

But today is different. It feels as if he's withdrawn inside himself. Outwardly, everything seems normal. When I finally felt alive enough to get up, he had tea and a light meal prepared for me, and his attitude was the usual deferential Padawan role he adopts when it pleases him. He certainly doesn't hesitate to drop it and argue with me whenever he wants! 

He didn't say anything, and there's nothing unusual with that, but his silence was different. He wouldn't even look at me. I felt he was avoiding me, and I thought it was because he disapproved of what I'd done last night, but after seeing these marks, I have to wonder... 

No, it can't be. I probably just got in a drunken scuffle, that's all. I just can't see Maul loosening up enough to seduce anybody, much less me. Why would he do that? He knows I hate him, and if he feels anything for me, it seems to be impatience at what he thinks is my continued stubbornness about believing the "truth" about him. 

That's it. That's the answer. It has to be. Anything else is... unthinkable. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I have decided. 

I was prepared to give up because Obi-Wan called out his former lover's name in the heat of passion, but I must focus on what happened at first. 

_He_ initiated the encounter. I choose to believe he was not so intoxicated that he was looking at me and seeing someone else. Perhaps reality became skewed for him later, but in the beginning, I believe he knew he was with me. 

Not Qui-Gon Jinn. 

That being the case, there is hope. He must have some feelings for me which he does not want to admit to, not even to himself, much less to me. Even if those feelings are only attraction and lust, those can be the seeds which bloom into something more. 

I must be patient. Until this point, I have not pursued him. I have not tried to overcome his reluctance except during a few isolated moments which he has conveniently ignored. From now on, he will no longer be able to ignore me. 

I will not let him. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I know I said it seemed like Maul had withdrawn from me, but I think I must have been imagining things. If anything, he's making himself _more_ present than usual. I can feel him inside my head stronger than ever even though my shields are up at full-strength, which means he must have his end of the bond open. 

He's giving me an invitation, I guess. Maybe he's trying to prove that he doesn't have anything to hide or that he really has changed... I don't know. I'm not going to open up enough to find out. 

I know what he said happened, and I still don't believe it, but it's not fair of me to assume he hasn't changed since then. It's possible... Maybe he _is_ different now. Maybe he _has_ embraced the Light. If he has, then I'm not helping his progress any by refusing to accept that. Maybe... Maybe I should try to start letting go of the past. 

Maybe I should start talking to him instead of trying to pretend he doesn't exist. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I have deliberately lowered my shields to the point that only a thin barrier exists between my mind and Obi-Wan's. Any time he wishes to search my memory or perform a mental probe, he is free to do so. I intend it to be a show of trust. I am not certain if he is even aware of this. Or if he cares. 

No matter. I refuse to slink into the shadows any longer. I have been accepted into the Temple. He is my erstwhile Master. I will continue to respect his wish for silence on certain matters, but I will no longer stay out of his path. This is my home too. I have a right to be here as much as he does. 

If he does not like it, he will have to solve the problem himself. It is not _my_ problem. 

From now on, I will do as I please. We will see how he reacts. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

What a night... 

I had reported the spontaneous bond that had formed between us to Master Yoda, but there were other Council members who wanted to question me about it, so I met with them late this afternoon. When I returned home, I found dinner waiting for me. Not just food on the table, either! The lights had been dimmed, and there were candles lit everywhere. Between the smell of the food and the candles and the atmosphere, I found myself relaxing without even thinking about it. It was an unexpectedly pleasant scene to walk in on. 

And then there was Maul in the back of my head, practically radiating contentment. He was putting a bowl of food on the table when I came in, and he looked up and nodded to acknowledge me, but he didn't smile. 

I'd like to see that. Just once, I'd like to see him smile or even laugh. 

I don't know _why_ , I just... do. 

Anyway. I asked him what all this was for, and he said, "I spent most of my life in sterile, empty surroundings. From now on, I wish to have aesthetically pleasing surroundings. That includes taking my meals in a relaxed and pleasant atmosphere." 

"This is just for you?" I asked, startled. Usually he didn't leave me out, but it sounded like he was going to from now on, and I was surprised at the pang of dismay that shot through me at the idea. 

But he gestured to the table and I noticed there were two place settings. I don't know why I was relieved by that... 

"Does my Master wish to eat now?" 

I nodded and sat down, and he served us both. It was a very good meal; I mean, I already knew he could cook, but this was even better than usual, and I had to ask, "Did you make this?" 

He gave me one of those long, steady looks of his. "You are surprised?" 

"Well..." I leaned back in my chair and smiled at him to let him know I was joking. "I didn't think the culinary arts were part of Sith training." 

He snorted. "Even Sith have to eat. However, I have developed my skills since being here." 

"What do you mean?" 

There was a pause during which he paid careful attention to his food. "My former Master did not approve of luxury. Meals were to be eaten for their nutrition content alone. Portions were to be no larger than necessary to survive." 

"Oh..." 

I didn't really know what to say after that, so we spent the rest of our meal in silence. It wasn't awkward though. I didn't feel like I _had_ to say anything. Being around Maul is rather like... rather like being around my Master. We can be quiet together without feeling obliged to speak. 

After dinner, he poured us both some tea, and after drinking about half of mine, I decided to ask about something that had been a source of curiosity for me for a while now. 

"How is it that you're so..." I paused, searching for the right words. "You're so blasted content all the time? You're an ex-Sith among Jedi, half the Council doesn't trust you, most of the Jedi don't trust you, the children are scared to death of you, and you know how I feel about you, so how are you managing this?" 

"How do you know I am?" he asked, watching me intently. 

I dropped my gaze to the floor and shrugged. "I can feel it. You're keeping the link open, and hard as I try, you still leak through. You always feel at peace, like you're content with your life exactly the way it is." 

He just watched me for a moment, and then he turned and walked out onto the balcony. I followed, of course. Setting his cup on the ledge, he leaned on both hands, looking out over the Coruscant horizon, an unusual move for him. Usually he stood straight, never leaning on anything, even in repose. It was full dark, but the landscape was dotted with millions of glittering lights. 

"First," he said quietly, "I am not an ex-Sith. I am a Jedi in training." 

I scowled, wanting to argue, but when I thought about it, I knew I shouldn't. He was right. If we wanted him to successfully turn to the Light, then none of us should constantly remind him what he was. Labeling people defines them. We had to let go of the past and give him a chance to start over if that's what he wanted. 

_I_ had to do that. To keep holding his past over his head was unfair. 

"Secondly," he continued. "What you, the Council or any other person thinks of me does not matter. What matters is what I think of myself. You will believe what you wish to believe, but it has no bearing on my reality." 

Suddenly he stood up straight and looked at me, his dark blue eyes locking with mine so I couldn't look away if I wanted to. 

"For the first time in my life, I am not filled with restless discontent, hatred and anger. For the first time in my life, my spirit is tranquil. I have been given a chance to learn how to use my gifts to help instead of harm. I have known peace here. Yes, I am content." 

I didn't say anything. What _could_ I say? I'm beginning to wonder who is the Master here and who is the apprentice. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

It looks like we've developed an after-dinner ritual without even meaning to. Instead of jumping up to clear things away like he used to, Maul serves us both tea, and then we end up talking for a while. Most of the time, we go out on the balcony because the nights have begun turning warm again, and the evening breezes are pleasant. Sometimes we sit on the couch, but Maul doesn't seem as relaxed there for some reason. 

Rarely does he volunteer information--I get the feeling he's not comfortable talking about himself--but if I ask, he'll answer. 

Tonight I asked him about his former life. 

He told me. 

Force... 

I don't know how he managed to survive to adulthood. I can't imagine growing up like that. I can't imagine having a Master like that. Mine was... He wasn't one for emotional displays, but I knew he cared about me. I never feared him or thought he would ever harm me. 

It started when I asked Maul why he chose to be a Sith in the first place. 

"I did not choose," he informed me bluntly. 

We were outside then, and he was standing with his back against the ledge so he could look at me while we talked. 

"I _chose_ to leave the Dark behind me," he continued, his voice even softer than usual. "I chose to embrace the Light." 

"Then how--?" I was puzzled. I thought someone became a Sith the same way someone becomes a Jedi: people are chosen by a Master before they turned thirteen. 

"I was taken from my family as an infant. I was raised by my former Master. I was given no alternative but to serve the Dark or die. I knew no other way of life." 

"Oh..." 

I didn't know what else to say. The very idea was completely foreign to me. I'd been surrounded by peace my entire life and always treated with affection. I just couldn't wrap my mind around the idea of the kind of life he was talking about. 

Or that he was abducted from his parents as a baby. We're identified as infants and brought to the Temple, but we're not kidnapped! It's an honor to be recognized as having Force ability, but if the parents don't want to give up their child, that's the end of it. But Maul's parents weren't given a choice, and they probably don't even know what really happened to him. 

That Maul could walk away from everything he had known and make such a complete change... As much as I hate to admit it, he's deserving of respect for that much, if nothing else. 

"Why did you turn away from the Dark Side?" I asked. "What made you leave?" 

He fell silent then and drained his cup before answering. 

"When I failed to follow orders on Naboo, my Master attempted to kill me for what he perceived as my betrayal of him. I nearly died by his hands. That... and one other important factor... was the catalyst that led me to seek the Light." 

"But you didn't come to the Temple right away," I reminded him, still dubious. 

"No." He shook his head, his expression somber. "I could not. I needed over a month to heal and regain my strength completely. After that, I spent many months concealing my existence from my former Master and arranging reports of my death to reach him. Even when there was no longer any way for him to sense my presence, I did not dare return to Coruscant immediately in case he had left spies." 

"Why did you want to abandon the Dark Side?" I persisted. "Why didn't you just try to get revenge and take his place? Isn't that how it works with the Sith?" 

The look he gave me was one of intense weariness, and for a moment I thought I'd pushed too far, but he merely shook his head again. 

"I had no wish to take his place. The Dark Side was thrust upon me at a young age. I did not embrace it of my own volition. When I began to explore the galaxy and see there were other options, I began to question." He broke off and turned away from me then, staring out at the night. "That is why Sidious was convinced I betrayed him. He knew of my growing doubts. He knew I was not fully committed to the Dark Side as I had once been." 

Without thinking about it, I moved to stand beside him, close enough for our shoulders to almost touch. I had the strangest impulse to reach out and put my hand on his shoulder or do something to offer comfort, but I didn't. 

He glanced at me, but I don't think he was really seeing me. His eyes were distant and unfocused even when he began talking again. 

"For nearly two decades, he kept me mostly isolated from all interaction with other people. Occasionally I came in brief contact with his spies and servants. That was all. It was not until I was close to taking the last test that he allowed me to serve on missions. It was then that I saw forces other than hatred and anger at work in the universe. I saw they too had power, and I began to wonder." 

"Wonder what?" I asked, whispering even though I didn't know why. 

He looked at me fully then, skewering me with his eyes again, and for a minute I felt like I was drowning. His eyes are so blue... so intense. He can hold me captive with a single look, and I'm powerless. I felt something surge in my chest, some strange emotion that I didn't want to face, so I squelched it, focusing on his words instead. 

"If they were more powerful than the Dark Side." 

"If what was more powerful?" I felt breathless, and I wanted to touch him so badly, but I didn't know why. I only knew that it was a need more powerful than anything I could remember feeling in a long time. 

"Love and hope," he said. 

And instead of commenting on the profoundness of that answer or congratulating him on his progress, all I could think of was how much I wanted to seal my mouth over his and see if his voice tasted as much like warm melted butter as it sounded. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I saw longing in Obi-Wan's eyes tonight. 

I do not know if he realized it himself. But it was there. I saw it burning in those blue-green depths as he looked at me. 

I do not think he understood the meaning behind my words. The meaning that applies only to him. He is not ready to hear. He is only beginning to accept that there is a bond between us far deeper than that of the Force-formed Master-Padawan bond. 

I accept it. I welcome it. I want it. I want him. 

Tonight has given me hope that one day he will want me too. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I want him. 

There. I've admitted it. 

Now I have to figure out how to get rid of this feeling. 

It's wrong! He represents everything I hate! 

Well... he did. He doesn't anymore, I know that now. I've talked to him enough and felt his sincerity along our bond that I know he's telling the truth. Whatever he did in the past, he wants to put it behind him. 

I can't do that. I will _never_ be able to do that. He took away the person I loved most, and I can never forgive him for it. I can certainly never entertain the idea of letting him be my lover! 

So... I have to find a way to purge these feelings. This awful desire I feel when I look at him. 

He sparred with Master Windu today, and I just watched, thinking there was no harm in it, but he enthralled me with every move. He is fluid grace. Every motion is poetry of the body. His movements are clean and elegant and so beautiful, I ache at seeing them. It's a feast for my eyes, and a torture for my soul. 

I watched him practicing with Master Windu, and my treacherous mind whispered to me, making me wonder what it would be like to hold that lithe body, to feel it against mine, to feel him inside me... 

No. I can't let myself think these things. I can't. It's a betrayal of myself and of my Master. 

I will never give in to this. 

Never. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Obi-Wan was not feeling well this evening. He seemed more weary than usual. During dinner, he had little appetite, and he touched his forehead often. After considerable questioning and no little irritation at me for "badgering" him, he admitted he was suffering a tension headache. 

I did not ask permission to do what I did next. Had I asked, the answer would have been no. 

I left my place at the table and stood behind his chair. When he tried to turn around to look at me and likely ask me what I was doing, I put my hands on either side of his head and made him look straight forward again. 

It was indicative of how much pain he must have felt that he did not argue or leave. 

Concentrating the Force around my hands to assist in soothing and healing him, I placed my fingers at his temples and began to rub there. Small, gentle circles. He sat very tense at first, holding himself carefully away from me, but I felt him gradually relax. Soon he slumped in his chair. Against me. 

He leaned back. He rested against my chest. 

Slowly I moved my fingers away from his temples and began massaging his scalp. I had good intentions. I wanted to soothe away his headache. That I was finally able to sift through his hair as I have long wanted to do was an added benefit. I stroked it. It was silken beneath my hands. I leaned over and breathed in the scent of his hair, the scent of him. 

He sighed and did not move. I eased my hands lower, rubbing the back of his neck. His skin was soft and warm. Instead of pulling away, he bent his head to give me better access. I could see the pale expanse of flesh normally hidden beneath his hair. It looked tender and vulnerable. I wanted to nuzzle it. To explore it with my lips and teeth and tongue. 

I pressed firmly with my thumbs, easing away the knots of tension I felt coiled in his muscles. I had no doubt that his entire back would feel the same way. I wanted to help. I wanted to touch him. 

"I can ease your tension, my Master." I leaned over and spoke softly against his ear. "Let me help you." 

"How?" He cast an uncertain look over his shoulder at me. 

I gestured for him to stand up. Still appearing dubious, he did. 

"I will massage your back. Do you want to remain in here on the couch, or will you allow me into your room?" I asked. 

/On the bed./ Neither of us spoke the words, but they hung between us. 

He hesitated. I could see the doubt in his eyes. Reluctantly he nodded and led me into his bedroom. I did not look around once we were inside even though I had not been in there before. My eyes were riveted on him. My chest was constricted. I could scarcely believe he was allowing this. 

He stopped next to his bed and stood there awkwardly for a moment as if he did not know what to do. I Force-raised the lights just enough so that I could see him. I approached him slowly, catching his gaze and holding it, hoping to reassure him without words. I would neither rush nor hurt him. 

I reached out and ran the neckline of his tunic between my thumb and forefinger. "On? Or off?" 

He swallowed hard. His breathing accelerated. Whether from anxiety or anticipation, I do not know. 

"Off." 

I nodded and moved close enough to unfasten his belt. I did not look at him as I removed it from his slender waist, put it aside and began unwinding his sash. I focused on what I was doing in case the desire I felt rising within me showed in my eyes. His tunics fell open. I slid my hands beneath the light fabric and pushed them off his shoulders. Down his arms. It took all my control not to caress him. To run my hands over every inch of newly exposed skin. To explore it thoroughly. 

My hands shook as I folded his tunics and put them aside. I could see Obi-Wan's chest rising and falling rapidly. My eyes were drawn to his naked torso. He was no longer as gaunt as he had been when I first arrived, but he was still thin, pared down by stress and relentless training to lean, whipcord muscle. He was still too thin. I wanted to remove the pain from his life so that he would return to the vibrant being of Light I had seen on Naboo. 

But for the moment, I greedily drank in the sight of him, memorizing each hard plane of muscle, the flat stomach, the dusky nipples I had barely had the chance to taste. The memory of them beading beneath my tongue rose up unbidden, and I closed my eyes, willing myself not to give in to temptation as I had done before. He was sober. He was not the aggressor this time. 

"Sit down," I commanded him, careful to keep my voice quiet and unthreatening. 

He obeyed. I knelt and pulled off his boots. Then I directed him to lie down on his stomach. He did so hesitantly. He did not relax. I could see the tension in his body. When I sat down beside him and placed my hand on the center of his back, I could feel it coiled beneath the surface of his skin. 

"Rest easy, my Master." Surrounding my hands with healing energy once more, I stroked my palms down from shoulder to hip and sent a wave of reassurance along our bond in case he could sense it even through his shields. 

Smoothing both hands back up, I began massaging his shoulders, digging my thumbs firmly into his muscles, working out the knots I felt there. Focusing my attention on that helped me dampen all thoughts of how warm and tempting his body was and how much I wished I could touch him in different ways than a simple massage. 

I worked my way slowly down his back, taking time to knead each muscle until it felt loose and pliant. By the time I reached the middle of his back, he released a shuddery sigh and began to go limp beneath my hands. 

By the time I reached his lower back, he was asleep. 

I stopped, resting my hands on his hips, just looking at him for a moment. He lay with his head turned to one side. I could see half of his face. In repose, he looked very young. Very vulnerable. 

I bent over and kissed the base of his spine. I nuzzled the fine, downy hair in that spot. I ran my hands slowly up along his sides, down his arms and back again. All the while, I continued to send reassurance and healing to him. These were touches he would never allow me if he were awake. I felt like a thief, stealing them now. But I could not resist the tempting sight he presented. 

I longed to slip into bed with him. To gather him in my arms and curl around him, to sleep that way all night. 

Instead I am in my own room. In my own bed. Alone. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I woke up alone, and for some reason, that surprised me. My sleep-blurred mind insisted that there ought to be someone else there, but when I reached out, the other side of the bed was empty and cold. I cracked open my eyes to look, but the other pillow was as plump as ever. No indention to show that someone had rested their head there. 

I'm getting depressed just thinking about it, but there's no logical reason for me to have thought that in the first place. 

There's an illogical one, though. When I'd woken up another couple of levels, I remembered the night before. I'd been feeling out of sorts and had a headache thanks to all the stress I've been under lately, and somehow I let Maul talk me into letting him massage my back instead of just taking care of the headache myself. 

Well, actually, he started off massaging my temples, and I could tell by the heat and the tingle in his hands that he was Force-healing my headache. It worked, too, and it felt so good... 

We ended up in my room, and for a minute, we just stared at each other. The lights were dim, and I couldn't see his expression that clearly--not that it would have done much good anyway. He never gives anything away, not with his face or his eyes. If he didn't want me to know what he felt, then I wouldn't. And for once, I couldn't feel anything from him along our bond. It was like he'd shielded too for some reason. 

I thought maybe he knew, that he'd guessed I have these... feelings for him. Maybe something had leaked out, or I showed it, and he was disgusted, but then he sauntered to me. That's the only way to describe it. The way he carried himself, the way he moved--he was in control, and he knew it. The predatory gait, the roll of his hips as he walked held me enthralled, and all I could do was stare, trying not to pant. 

Then amid the total silence of the darkened room, that low, mesmerizing voice: "On? Or off?" 

He meant my tunic. He could have meant every stitch of clothing I had on, and I still would have said "off." 

He must have sensed my tension because he leaned over at one point and whispered, "rest easy." It didn't help at all--the sound of that voice brushing against my ear like dark velvet only aroused me even more, and it was all I could do not to start thrusting against the mattress. 

Thank all the listening gods that he'd asked me to lie on my stomach. 

And when he touched me... I never thought the hands of a warrior could be so gentle. He was slow and methodical, working on each muscle in my back until I felt myself relaxing at last. 

I wanted him so much, and I was so ashamed. I still am. I should _not_ feel this way. Not for him, of all people. But I do. Now the question is, what do I do about it? How do I get him out of my mind? 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Obi-Wan is confused. Conflicted. I can sense it. 

I am doing nothing to help ease his mind. On the contrary, I have begun taking steps to ensure he cannot possibly forget that I am here. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

If I weren't so blasted certain that Maul has no idea I desire him and that there's no way he could possibly feel the same way about me, I would swear he's trying to drive me out of my mind on purpose. 

The day before yesterday, he walked out of the bathing room to his bedroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. And of course he had to take a detour to the kitchen area first to get a snack. He leaned on his hip against the table, calmly eating a piece of fruit while I could scarcely stop gaping at him. 

Did he have _any_ idea how delectable he looked? His pale skin was still damp from the shower, glowing with heat and health, and for the first time, I saw just how well-formed he is from head to toe. I'd seen him shirtless before, of course, and I knew how his arms curve with muscle, and how solid his waist is. Stocky he might be, but there isn't an ounce of fat on his body. It's all well-honed muscle. And for the first time, I got a look at his powerful legs. Remembering all the times they had been locked around me when we wrestled together, I shivered, my mouth suddenly going dry. 

His dark hair was still wet, tousled and sticking up because he's determined to keep it in a Padawan cut. He hadn't yet tied back the longer hair that formed his ponytail, and it clung to his neck and sent rivulets of water down his chest. I followed the course of one droplet down, watching it maneuver through the light dusting of hair, down his firm stomach, down to the edge of the towel that was riding indecently low enough on his hips that I could see the beginning of where hip turned into thigh, down... 

I felt like I was starting to shake. 

"Would you like a taste?" 

Force, but _that_ was a loaded question if ever I'd heard one, but he meant the piece of fruit, which he was holding out to me. I shook my head, not trusting my voice. 

_Finally_ he left, and I retreated to take a very cold shower, silently cursing him for being so oblivious. I have no idea what his... intimate life was like before. I don't even know if he's ever had sex. From what I can tell, his life was completely devoted to training, and that doesn't leave a lot of time for socializing. He probably doesn't even realize the effect he's having on me, which is good in a way, because if he _did_ know, he might try to take advantage of my weakness. 

On the other hand, his ignorance of sexuality and the devastating effect the sight of him parading around in various states of undress can have is making life more than a little uncomfortable for me. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

My Obi-Wan is on the verge of exploding. 

Yesterday, I found him in the kitchen, preparing a mid-day meal for himself. 

I stood very close behind him and closed my hand over his, not daring to thread my fingers through his. However, I did caress the back of his hand with my thumb while pretending not to be doing so intentionally. 

He nearly dropped the knife he was holding. 

"Let me do that for you, my Master." I spoke in his ear. I have noticed this makes him shiver, and this time was no different. 

"No, that's all right. I can do this for myself." He hesitated, then added, "Thank you." 

He did not look at me. He concentrated very hard on what he was doing. I did not move. 

"Are you certain?" I shifted my stance just enough so that our bodies touched from shoulder to hip. I felt his sharp intake of breath. 

"Yes." He was tense. His voice was tight and controlled. "I'm certain." 

"As you wish." 

I left him. Slowly. 

There is desire between us. Now if only I can coax him into admitting it. And acting on it. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

All right, maybe I was wrong. Maybe Maul _does_ realize how I feel. 

Today, he stumbled during hand-to-hand practice. 

Maul does not stumble. 

This is a man who doesn't walk--he glides. Unless he's headed for me, in which case it seems more like he stalks. He appears to have his body under total control at all times, and every movement he makes is elegant and graceful. 

But today... 

Today, he stumbled while we grappled bare-handed, and it just happened to send us both tumbling to the floor with me conveniently pinned beneath him. At first we both sprawled there unmoving, breathing hard from exertion, but then he looked at me, our gazes locked, and something passed between us. 

For me, everything froze. There was nothing and no one in the world except him, and all I could do was savor the delicious weight of his body pressed against the entire length of mine. I wanted to wrap my legs around his hips and lock him against me; I wanted to grab his face and pull him into a kiss so that I could taste him at last; I wanted to undress him and touch him and see him out of control with passion because of me; I wanted to make him lose his calm composure. I wanted to know I had the same kind of power over him that he had over me. 

There was no way he could miss the fact that I was aroused; we were too close for him not to feel my erection. Just like I could feel his. The rest of him might not give anything away, but that was one thing beyond his control and that he couldn't hide, not in the vulnerable position we were in. I knew without a doubt that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. 

I could see blue embers smoldering in the depths of his eyes, and I wanted to make them erupt into flame. He'd been torturing me for days whether deliberately or not, and it was time for me to get a little revenge, so I tilted my hips up, pressing against him. In that moment, I didn't care about guilt or shame, I was drowning in lust. 

His eyes never left mine as he lowered his head, and I _knew_ he was going to kiss me; he was moving slowly to give me time to push him away, but I wasn't going to, and I saw the moment he realized that. He didn't actually smile, but I could see a flash of pleasure in his eyes. We had tumbled to the floor with our hands clasped together in a fighting hold as we struggled to win the match, but he twined his fingers with mine, pinning my arms over my head as he bent closer-- 

\--and my commlink sounded. 

I had promised to help Anakin with lightsaber practice, and I was late. 

At the time, frustration coursed through me as Maul rolled off me, jumped to his feet and extended his hand to help me up, but now I realize it was the best thing that could have happened. If we hadn't been interrupted, he would have kissed me. If he had kissed me... I don't know where it would have led. At that moment, I had desired him more than I'd ever desired anyone before in my life; I would have let him kiss me, let him touch me, let him make love to me, and I wouldn't have cared if someone had walked in as long as he sated my need for him. 

I've got to be more careful. I've got to keep my distance until I figure out what to do and how to get rid of this desire I feel for the one man who ought to be my worst enemy. Not my lover.


	5. Chapter 5

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

For the first time since Naboo, I had a vision while I was meditating. Before Naboo, I had them, not regularly, but often enough to know this was part of my Force-gift. I used to work with Master Yoda as often as my schedule allowed because my Master's affinity had been with the Living Force. I don't think he ever had a vision or experienced a feeling of premonition like I did. He was too grounded in the moment, but Master Yoda understood my abilities and helped me developed them. 

Since Naboo, I haven't seen or felt anything. I've tried several times to see my future path, but it's still cloudy. But today--today I saw something without even trying. Today a vision came to me like they used to. Be careful what you ask for indeed! 

In my vision, I saw myself standing over Maul. I think he was dead. He lay in a crumbled heap at my feet, not moving. I was in a defense posture, and my lightsaber was activated. At first I thought it was a vision showing me that one day I would have my revenge: I will kill Maul. But then I saw something that makes me doubt that. 

I saw another Maul. Only this one still had the horns and the tattoos, and I could _feel_ the hate and anger rolling off him as he closed in to attack me. That Maul felt exactly like the monster I fought on Naboo. Darkness swirled around him, and evil permeated the air until I felt I would suffocate. I _knew_ that feeling; it had surrounded Maul on Naboo, but I've never felt anything like that from him since he's been here. He's changed all right. Feeling this made me remember, and the difference in him between then and now is staggering. 

Now that I think about it, it has to be symbolic. Maybe it's giving me a warning that the Dark Side still has a hold on Maul, and if we're not careful, he'll succumb to it again. It _has_ to be symbolic, because if it isn't, it means there's a clone of Maul out there. And if there's a clone of Maul now or in the future, there could have been one on Naboo just like he said, and I'm not ready to believe that. 

Anyway, the vision shook me up enough that I didn't even think twice, I just ran off to find Maul, using our bond to track him down. I found him in one of the practice rooms with Master Gaelyr and his Padawan, Ettis. 

Ettis was walking through a series of moves with a long staff, his face scrunched up as he concentrated on keeping his balance and mobility while handling the unusual weapon. Gaelyr appeared to be just watching the exercise, while Maul seemed to be the one directing it. When I moved into the open doorway, I could hear him giving instructions in a low, steady tone: "Now step forward. One, two... Yes. Watch your wrist... Now back and extend." 

Dipping the front end of the staff down in a blocking maneuver, Ettis let the back end come up too fast, and it hit him on the shoulder. Immediately, he stopped and grinned at Maul, who gave him a somber look in return. 

"You have just cut off your own arm," Maul informed him. "Again." 

"What does that make? Three times?" Ettis asked cheerfully. 

"Four. But you are doing well." 

Ettis bounded over to Maul and handed him the staff, and I was amazed to see what looked like genuine liking and good humor in the boy's face when he looked at Maul. 

"Thanks, Maul. You ought to hold a class on this technique. You're a good teacher," Ettis told him, and I sensed nothing from him but sincerity--he meant it. 

Maul further added to my amazement by reaching out and tugging on Ettis' braid with what looked like gentle affection. "It helps having a quick learner." 

"And so you go from the young and quick to the old and slow," Gaelyr spoke up as he went to retrieve another staff that was leaned against the wall. "Time to watch your Master get beaten black-and-blue," he added with a wink to Ettis, who had retreated to a nearby bench. 

As I watched, the two began sparring, and I gradually realized what was going on: Maul was teaching Ettis and Gaelyr how to fight with a double-bladed lightsaber. They were using plain staves now, but all blows were struck and parried with the ends, not the center of each staff. 

I could tell Maul was holding back. I'd sparred with him enough to know exactly what he was capable of, and I knew he wasn't fighting anywhere near his best. He was allowing Gaelyr time to learn, teaching through example rather than just going after him full-strength and leaving the Jedi Master to cope as best he could. The session would have lasted all of thirty seconds if Maul hadn't been holding back. Instead he let it continue, not pressing the advantage when he could have in order to let Gaelyr watch and analyze his moves. As a result, I could see Gaelyr begin to practice what he observed, and as the fight continued, it began to even out a little. 

It was the first time I'd seen Maul use anything resembling his former weapon. Suddenly, images of my vision--the Dark Maul had possessed a double-bladed weapon--came flooding back, and I gasped, a wave of fear sweeping over me. Was this the beginning of his fall back into darkness? 

I don't know whether he heard my gasp or if he felt my sudden rush of emotion along our bond, but somehow, Maul was alerted to my presence. He turned to look--just as Gaelyr aimed a blow to his head, and he fell, knocked down by the force of the blow. 

Without thinking, I ran over, pulling up short before I could do anything stupid like fling myself to the floor beside him. 

"Oh, hells!" Gaelyr tossed aside his staff and knelt beside Maul, who was struggling to sit up, one hand pressed to his forehead. "I'm sorry, Maul." 

"It is my own fault." Maul removed his hand, and there was blood on his palm; he had a gash on his forehead that looked long but not deep. "I allowed myself to be distracted." 

"Ettis, go get a towel," Gaelyr instructed the boy, who had jumped off the bench and scampered over, his eyes wide with concern. 

Ettis was gone and back again in a minute or two, and both Master and Padawan attended to Maul. I was surprised by their behavior, not only because they were taking lessons from Maul, but also because they appeared to be genuinely concerned and wanted to help. Ettis had wet one end of the towel and used it to wipe the blood from Maul's face while Gaelyr Force-healed the wound enough to stop the blood flow. 

"You should go to the Healers," Gaelyr said, sitting back on his heels and regarding Maul with an earnest look. "I was swinging with full strength. I didn't think you'd block it with your head," he added with a wry smile. 

"It was not what I intended either," Maul replied, then wiped his face dry and returned the towel to Ettis with quiet thanks. "I will be fine. Obi-Wan will assist me if needed." 

Both Gaelyr and Ettis glanced at me as if they'd forgotten I was there, and Maul was turned over to me with the strict instructions that I take him to the Healers to make certain he hadn't gotten a concussion from the blow. 

As soon as we were well out of hearing range, I turned and looked at him. 

"Well?" 

He didn't have to ask what I meant, which means either he was sensing my intent along our bond.... or we understand each other too well. 

"I am fine. No healers." 

"All right, but if you start feeling any symptoms--" 

"I have had concussions before. I know the signs," he stated bluntly, and I shrugged. 

"As you wish," I said, turning words he often used with me back on him. We walked along in silence for a while, but then curiosity got the better of me. "Why were you teaching Gaelyr and Ettis how to fight like that?" 

He remained quiet for a moment, then he said, "The Council believes it is a good idea to begin including such training techniques. As I am the only person qualified to teach these skills at present, they want to assess my teaching ability by working with a Master and Padawan first before they allow me to instruct an entire class." 

"You think we all need to know how defend ourselves like that?" I asked softly, feeling a clench of nerves in my stomach as I remembered my vision. 

"Yes." Maul looked straight ahead, his expression grim. "I think it is very likely." 

After we got back to our quarters, Maul said he was going to spend a few hours in healing sleep, but I stopped him before he could disappear into his room. 

"Let me help," I said quietly. 

I didn't know exactly why I wanted to; I told myself it was because I wanted to help prevent him from falling into Darkness again as my vision had forewarned. He looked at me for a long moment; his eyes held mine, but I could read nothing of his thoughts in them, and I didn't want to risk using our bond to learn what he was thinking. It would've been too intrusive. 

"I owe you. You healed my headache." I offered the explanation, but in all honesty, I think I needed the justification more than he did. 

"Very well." 

When we got to his bedroom, he proceeded to strip down to his leggings, seeming oblivious to the effect his bared flesh had on me, and I clasped my hands and hid them in the sleeves of my outer robe to keep myself from grabbing him and finishing what we'd started in the practice room several days before. 

He slipped beneath the sheets and settled against his pillow, closing his eyes and leaving me to do whatever I intended without question or comment. I gazed down at him for a moment, feeling uncertain. I'd suggested this, and now I was wondering if it had been such a good idea. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed with him, curl myself around him and hold him while he slept, adding my Force-energy to his and helping speed along the healing process. 

Instead, I sat down next to him and rested my hand carefully on his forehead, opening myself to our bond so the healing energy could flow more quickly and easily to him. It wasn't long before he gave a soft sigh and drifted into a deep, healing sleep, but I remained where I was, feeling a contentment I hadn't known in over a year. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I have had unsettling premonitions lately. 

I sense a disturbance in the Force. When I seek the source in meditation, it invariably leads me to one image: my former Master. He is the cause. I believe that if he is not already on Coruscant, he will be soon. I do not know why. Perhaps he suspects I am still alive. Perhaps he knows I am. I learned many years ago not to underestimate him. I did not expect to fool him forever, if indeed I fooled him at all. He could have been lying in wait, setting a trap and letting me wander into it unawares as he did when I was a child. 

I will not return to him. I will not allow him to bring harm to the Temple. I will kill him or die myself before I allow him to harm Obi-Wan. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Force... I can't believe what I did... 

If anything happens to him, it's my fault. I have no one else to blame for my own stupidity and selfishness. Force, I've been so blind... 

We were on the balcony after dinner talking, just talking, and I'd asked him exactly how he'd managed to escape his former Master since the monster had tried to kill him. 

"He underestimated me," was the answer. "And he did not burn the body." 

I shuddered, feeling my mind recoil as it did so often when Maul talked about his past. He experienced things so horrific that I could scarcely believe they were real, but he lived them. And he talks about them so calmly, so matter-of-fact as if they were of little consequence. 

"I retained enough strength and presence of mind to sever our Master-Apprentice bond," he added. "He taught me that pain was to be conquered and used to fuel my anger and hatred. I used it to fuel my desire for escape." 

"How did you free yourself from the Dark Side?" I asked. For some reason, his story fascinates me. I find it amazing that he managed to reinvent himself so completely after years of indoctrination. I don't know if I could have done it. I would like to think I could, but I really don't know. 

No, that's not true. I do know. 

When Maul faced the biggest challenge of his life, he turned away from the only way of life he'd known and turned to the Light, drawing on it to sustain him. He came out the other side stronger than he was before. 

When I faced the biggest challenge of my life, I withdrew. I fell into a pit of anger and fear, and I wallowed in it instead of using all the lessons I'd been taught to help me get out. When I was put to the test, I wasted everything I'd been taught, everything I thought I'd learned. 

"Meditation," he said in answer to my question. "Searching deep within myself, seeking out the shadows and bringing them to the Light so that they might wither and die. It was difficult." 

If there's one thing I've learned about Maul, it's that he's a master of understatement. If he says "it was difficult," the translation is something along the lines of 'it was about a hundred times worse than the most excruciating and painful situation you can imagine, a trauma that would probably have broken the mind and soul of a lesser man.' 

"I often felt like a battleground between the Dark and the Light. It did not want to relinquish me. I struggled to set myself free." 

Just enough feeling and imagery seeped through our bond for me to get a vague hint of what he meant. I felt echoes of his agony as the Darkness tore at him, of the physical and mental torment he suffered as he fought to purge himself of the Dark Side, of the screams that ripped from his throat, leaving it as raw as his flayed soul. I shivered again, grateful I'd never had to experience anything like that. 

He's very strong-willed and determined. The more I realize what he had to go through to get to the point he is now, the more I realize he's worthy of respect. I hadn't trained him. All I'd done was teach him the Jedi way of life. He did the hard part himself. Alone. 

This hasn't been easy for him. It's _still_ not easy for him, and... I realize my attitude hasn't made things any easier. 

Suddenly he lifted his cup to me as if in salute, one corner of his mouth quirking up as if in a slight smile. 

"But I am here now. I would far rather be here completely alone than still bonded with my former Master." 

I blinked at him, startled. Alone? Here at the Temple where there were countless people around all the time? 

"You're not alone now," I said, but he just gave me a look that said he thought I was being more dense than usual. 

"Yes, I am." He set his cup down and moved to stand in front of me. "As you pointed out yourself, most people here do not trust me. Master Gaelyr and Ettis are exceptions. If I am not ignored as I walk the halls, I am pointed at and whispered about. You and I are bonded, but you remain closed to me." He shrugged, an elegant ripple of shoulders. "I am alone." 

In that moment, the difficult circumstances of his life and all he had been through overwhelmed me. After all he'd dealt with, he was still hopeful, still resilient and looking at what he did have rather than what he didn't. Meanwhile, I'd been wallowing in self-pity, bewailing everything I'd lost. He'd always managed to keep hold of hope while I'd deliberately pushed it away. 

I felt ashamed. I stopped feeling sorry for myself for the first time in ages and realized there were people who'd suffered much worse than ever I had. I wanted to help him somehow, to ease the burden of loneliness, and so... I tried. 

"You're not alone," I murmured, reaching out and pulling him into my arms. "You have me." 

He allowed me to hold him, but I could see doubt in his eyes. 

"It was not so long ago that you claimed to hate me," he reminded me. 

"I know, but things have changed," I replied, smoothing my hand down his cheek and slipping my other arm around his waist so I could urge him closer. 

"Have they?" 

I knew what he was really asking. After the way I'd treated him since he arrived, he didn't deserve for me to toy with his feelings as well, to use him for one night just so I could rid myself of this lust for him. But I was a coward. I couldn't admit the truth, not to him and not to myself, and I couldn't stop myself from using him. And so I avoided the question. 

"You want this." I was stating a fact. 

"Yes." He held my gaze evenly, still waiting for the honest answer I wasn't prepared to give. "Do you?" 

Yes. I wanted him, but I couldn't say it aloud. I didn't want to admit it, especially not to him. This was a one-time thing. I would let this happen once to get him out of my system and purge away all thoughts of desire just as he had purged himself clean of the Dark Side. Then I would be free. It would also give him reassurance that I no longer hated him and that he wasn't completely alone and friendless. 

Instead of speaking, I kissed him. Running my fingers through his spiky hair, I cradled the back of his head in my palm and touched my lips to his, just a gentle brush of mouths, but it wasn't enough. I kissed him again, harder this time, coaxing his lips apart with my tongue so I could taste him, and I'm still not sure whose moan that was, his or mine. 

He slid his hands up my arms to grip my shoulders, and I could feel his body quivering as he pressed against me. I tightened my arm around his waist, concentrating on the kiss, letting it deepen. I explored him with my tongue, feeling an answering quiver in my own body when he twined his tongue around mine in return, letting them dance and mate. I pulled back but only so I could run my tongue over his lower lip, then draw it into my mouth and suck it gently. His lips were warm, soft and pliant; I could feel him opening to me completely, his body relaxing against mine as he gave me full access to his mouth. 

And it felt so _right_... 

As much as I didn't want to acknowledge it, holding him and touching him felt so good, so right, and we fit together so well, our height matching close enough that we could meld against each other from shoulder to hip, and I felt such peace even in the midst of passion as if the Force itself was telling me, "this is right, this is good." 

I moved down his neck, nipping and licking, a feverish heat building up within me, and he must have felt the same thing because suddenly my belt was gone, and his hands were beneath my tunics, and I groaned at the wicked pleasure of his touch on my bare skin. But even through the haze of desire surrounding me, I heard him murmur, "Yes... so beautiful, my Obi..." 

Jerking my head up, I stared at him, unable to believe what I'd just heard. I never thought to hear him use an endearment, especially not a possessive one. What I saw in his face sent a wave of ice through me, dousing any passion I might have felt. 

For the first time, his expression was completely open. His eyes were alight with a soft glow, and a small but distinct smile curved his lips. I could see pleasure and hope in his face, and--and something else that I'd never thought to see from him. 

"Why?" I demanded, suddenly pushing him away from me and backing up to a safe distance. "Why didn't you kill me on Naboo?" 

I'd asked him that once before, and he told me not to ask again until I ready to hear the answer. Now, I was certain I already knew the answer. 

He stared at me, obviously stunned by this sudden shift in moods. He was still breathing hard, and it took him a moment to draw his usual dignified composure around himself. Time spun out into a tight, cold thread between us as I waited. 

Finally he drew in a deep breath, his neutral mask falling back into place, and he braced himself as if for an anticipated blow. 

"Because I love you." 

It was the last thing my mind wanted to hear. It was what my secret heart wanted to hear most. And I couldn't handle that. 

I broke. 

Every bit of venom that had been festering inside my soul erupted in a foul, seething mass of hateful words and emotions, all of which I used to assault Maul, battering him with the strength of my disgust and loathing. For the first time, I opened our bond so he could feel every bit of it. 

It was the cruelest thing I've ever done in my life. 

"Don't you _ever_ say that to me again!" I raged, the overflow of emotion still rushing at him, and I could feel him trying to shield against it, but too late. The damage had been done. 

When I'd finally calmed down, when he finally looked at me again, I nearly cried out with horror. 

His face was a mask of stone, and his eyes were empty. The light within them was dead. All the hope I'd sensed and seen from him before was gone. 

I had killed it. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I hurt. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Force, I've messed things up so badly, and if Maul turns back to the Dark Side, there's no one to blame but me. 

I've failed him. Just like I failed my Master. Just like I failed Anakin. 

No wonder they took Anakin away from me. I'm incompetent. I have to wonder why they saddled Maul with me as well unless they _wanted_ something like this to happen. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I spoke with Master Yoda today. I told him of what had passed between myself and Obi-Wan. At first, I could barely force the words out. He hit my shin with his gimer stick. 

"Control is the way of the Sith!" he declared. "Release is the way of the Jedi. Release your emotions you must. To the Force you must give them. Big enough to hold your emotions it is. Big enough to hold your emotions you are not." 

This is the most difficult aspect of my training to accept and enact. I was taught to control my emotions. To reveal emotion was to reveal weakness to my enemies. It made me vulnerable. 

My emotions, however, had ideas of their own. They demanded release. They achieved it whether I liked it or not. 

I fell to my knees, threw back my head and howled with the pain serrating my heart. I opened myself to the Force. I felt the hopeless love, anguish and despair pouring out of me as I did. I felt the Force around me. Inside me. It was there, a constant comfort. 

Obi-Wan was lost to me, but I was still strong in the Force. That would never change. The pain was there, but it was manageable. 

"Hear the song of the Dark do you?" Master Yoda asked me when my outburst was over. 

"No." 

I understood why he asked. In my emotional state, I was vulnerable. If I grew angry, I was vulnerable. But I was not angry. I could not be angry with Obi-Wan. I understood him far better than he realized. I have already faced my anger and fear. I have taken away their power over me. He has yet to do the same. He knows only a false detachment. For that I pity him. 

"I love Obi-Wan," I said. "But I did not embrace the Light for him. I did it for myself. I will not turn back." 

It was nothing more than the simple truth. I will never go back to my former way of life. It is repugnant to me now. It is a regret I will bear until my death. But I cannot change my past. I can only strive to make my future far different. 

Master Yoda nodded as if my answer satisfied him. "What wish you to do now?" 

I relaxed into a more comfortable kneeling position and bowed my head. "I do not know. I do not wish to return to the quarters I share with Obi-Wan. Beyond that..." I shrugged. 

"Arrange for you new quarters, I will." He regarded me thoughtfully for a moment. "Good report about you Master Gaelyr gave. Teach a class now you can. If ready you are." 

"I am ready." 

I am indeed ready. I wish to prepare as many Jedi as I can to combat the double-bladed lightsaber. We will need that knowledge. Teaching a class will be useful. It will also provide a focus to concentrate on other than this ache inside me. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I talked to Master Yoda today... He whacked me with his cane and told me I was an idiot. 

I hate it when he's right. 

I know I've been stupid when it came to handling Maul's transition from the Dark Side to the Light. I was supposed to help him, to guide him, and I ended up doing everything wrong. I insulted him, treated him like he's less than human and rejected him in every way possible. 

I'm beginning to think maybe... maybe I was stupid in other ways as well. 

I haven't seen Maul in days. All I know is that the day after I exploded at him, all of his things disappeared. Not that he has much. Even after spending months living with me, he hasn't managed to accumulate much. 

He says he doesn't need to because I collect enough stuff for both of us. 

Anyway, everything was gone. I thought maybe he'd left the Temple, but Master Yoda said he'd been assigned new quarters and new duties. He didn't leave the Temple, he just left me. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I chose my time to collect my belongings carefully. I did not wish to encounter Obi-Wan. I cannot see him, even in my mind, without hearing the echo of his words: "Never say that to me." 

He wants nothing to do with me. I have accepted that. I will create a life here separate from him. Perhaps one day, I will find someone who will not look upon my heart with loathing. 

It did not take long to pack up my belongings. I took nothing but what was mine. Except for one thing. 

I took one of Obi-Wan's undertunics. If I cannot have him, then let me at least have this little part of him. It carries his scent. When I gather it under my head at night, I breathe in deeply. It is an empty comfort, but it sends me pleasant dreams. 

I also took my old lightsaber. I had considered constructing a new one for use in my class when the students are ready. However, I prefer the idea of using the old one in service of the Light. It seems fitting somehow. 

When I returned to my new quarters, I held it in my bare hands. It had been an instrument of terror and death in my hands for many years. In a way, it represented all that I had once been. I could feel the taint of Darkness on it. 

Touching it made me ill. I fought back nausea as I began the cleansing. I cleansed it of its negative aura, but I cannot cleanse it of memories. Those are mine forever. But from this day on, I will use the weapon as an instrument of defense rather than attack; of peace rather than hatred; of justice rather than vengeance. 

It will be the weapon of a Jedi. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Damn. 

I hate coming home now. It's so empty. It doesn't feel right anymore, and everywhere I look, I see Maul. I remember our quiet talks on the balcony... how we'd stay out there for hours, discussing everything and nothing... 

I remember the times I tried to drive him crazy by leaving stuff all over the common area. He's so blasted meticulous, and all I had to do was drop my robe on the floor, or take my boots off and just leave them somewhere, or scatter a bunch of datapads around, and then count the seconds before he couldn't stand it anymore and cleaned up after me. 

Once he asked me why I didn't pick up after myself. 

"Why?" I said. "You do it for me." 

He gave me one of those Looks, the kind that said there was a retort sitting on the end of his tongue and he was debating about whether to say it or not. 

I wish he'd spoken up more often. I liked it when he challenged me. I guess he thought I'd get mad, and in the beginning, I would have, but later, I liked it. It was fun. 

I remember how pleasant it could be at times, and then I think about how pleasant it could have been if I'd just allowed myself to relax and enjoy his company instead of keeping him at a distance. 

So many regrets. So many mistakes. Add them to the list, Kenobi. You did the same thing with your Master. What in the name of all the hells does it take for me to _learn_? 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I do not like coming home. 

My new quarters are smaller. But that is not the problem. 

The problem is that they are empty. No evidence of another being's presence. The walls and the furniture are all sterile and barren. Devoid of personality. There is no Kenobi clutter. 

I admit his habit of carelessly scattering things around was annoying, but I would rather have that than the pervading silence of these empty rooms. I long for the nights we talked together. The times I felt he forgot I was supposed to be a monster and treated me as a man. As a friend. 

It is not that I am alone. I have spent most of my life in one form of isolation or another. Solitude does not bother me. And I have friends now. 

Recently, a Knight named Jossen approached me after my class. He said that he and some others were going to the dining hall for the evening meal. He invited me to join them. I was surprised and uncertain. No one had included me in such a way before. He assured me I was welcome. I went. 

At first, some of his companions regarded me with suspicion. As they grew accustomed to my presence, this seemed to change. They began to include me in their conversation. They smiled and sounded pleased to see me when I approached. 

Jossen has been a good friend to me. I have not wished to discuss recent events, but I am aware that he will listen should I ever need or want to do so. Some of those whom I teach have expressed sympathy or compassion. I have companionship when I desire it. I choose to remain alone more often than not, but knowing I have a choice eases the pain of separation. 

I am not alone. But my friends are not Obi-Wan. None of them can fill the void created by his absence. Only time will heal me. Even still, his place in my heart will always exist no matter he is not there to occupy it. 

We had reached a fragile peace. Despite his conscious objections, he had begun to accept me. Despite himself, he had begun to care. We shared quarters. We shared schedules. We shared our lives. There is nowhere I can go and little I can do here that does not remind me of him, that does not bring a dull ache of memory. Even now, I must remind myself we no longer meet for sparring at what had been our appointed time. And when that time comes each day, I feel his absence most keenly. 

There are times in the small, cold hours of the night when I am tempted to contact him. To beg him to allow me back into our quarters. Just to let me stay there with him. He would not have to speak to me or acknowledge my presence. Just let me be there. It would be enough. 

But in the light of day, I know the truth. It would not be enough. I want him to accept me as I am. If he cannot do that, then I am better off alone. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I have not seen Obi-Wan in weeks. I admit I harbored a faint hope that he would contact me. He has not. I no longer hope for contact from him. Nor will I contact him. It is not pride that keeps me silent. Nor is it fear of further rejection. If he contacted me, I would not refuse him. However, I will not impose where I am not wanted. He made it clear I am no longer welcome in his life. Therefore, I am creating a new life without him. It is not what I wanted. However, that choice is not mine to make. I must deal with matters as they are, not as I wish them to be. 

I do not know if my pragmatism is innate or a result of my training. Perhaps both. Whatever its origin, it has always served me well. I learned early in life that acceptance does not mean I must understand or like a thing, only that I recognize my own powerlessness to change it. 

I cannot change the fact that Obi-Wan has removed me from his life. I can only change the new direction of my own life. 

To that end, I have concentrated on the lessons Master Yoda gives me and on the class I now teach. It meets every other day. There are several Masters and Knights who are learning how to fight with and against a double-bladed lightsaber. Master Yoda says there are now more who wish to learn. I am busy. 

I cannot work constantly, however. When I find myself in danger of dwelling too much on the past, I meditate. On rare occasions, I seek companionship. I have spoken most often with Jossen. At last I confided in him about Obi-Wan. 

"Well, you're both in pretty difficult situations," he told me. "It's tough losing your Master like that--a real shock to the system--because most of the time, the bond is severed gently, not just cut off without warning. Then there's the fact that he thinks you're the one responsible for that loss in the first place." 

"Do you think I am?" I asked. I wished to hear one person tell me they do not think I am guilty. 

"No, I don't," Joss stated. "I believe you, Maul. And if you ask me, I think Obi-Wan knows the truth. He's just not ready to admit it yet. Not to you or to himself." 

"Why? Such willful blindness goes against everything he has been taught." 

He shrugged and spread his hands. "We can learn all the lessons in the galaxy about peace and self-awareness, but we're always going to have blind spots about our behavior and motivations, and it's up to us to recognize and overcome them. People can point them out, but that doesn't mean we'll see them. No one can be forced to face their problems before they're ready, and obviously, Obi-Wan isn't ready. If he were, he'd be examining himself and trying to fix the problems, not reacting in anger and denial." 

It is pleasant having someone to discuss such matters with. I had not realized how much I wanted to be able to speak of Obi-Wan until I was given the chance to do so. We also have discussions much like those I used to have with Obi-Wan. Joss is clever. He shares my interest in history, among other things, and he is as relaxed in my presence as I am in his. 

I do not feel as if I am being judged and found lacking. 

I enjoy his friendship, but that is all. I am no more interested in him than he is in me. He prefers female companionship, and I... I prefer Obi-Wan. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I saw Maul for the first time in weeks... Just when I thought I'd gained control... 

I was tired of eating alone in our... my quarters, so I went to the dining hall, and he was there with a whole crowd of other people. Some of them I knew, others I didn't, but he was in the middle of the group, and I could see him sitting there, just listening as he did when we used to talk. He always looks straight at whoever's speaking, and it always made me feel that no matter what I was saying, no matter how stupid or trivial it might be, he was listening. At that moment, his attention was entirely focused on me. 

But he's like that with everything. For someone whose affinity is with the Unifying Force, he's got the idea of how to live in the moment down well. He's not restless like me, looking ahead to see what's coming around the next corner. He's content to sit, do what he's doing and wait to see what happens next without rushing to meet it. 

He didn't hesitate to rush to someone else, though! While I was watching, I saw the Knight sitting next to him put his arm around Maul's shoulders, then lean over and whisper something to him. 

How cozy. 

I suppose I ought to be glad he's found someone else. 

So why aren't I? 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Joss surprised me tonight. According to him, he also surprised Obi-Wan. 

We had already established that our preferences are not compatible. Therefore I did not expect him to put his arm around me while we were at dinner and lean against me. 

Before I could react, he whispered, "Obi-Wan is here, and he's been staring at you for the last five minutes. I thought I'd give him something to see." 

He instructed me not to turn around no matter how much I wished to. I obeyed. I have shielded myself so tightly that I can no longer sense Obi-Wan as I once could. I was not aware when he entered the room. Once I knew of his presence, it took a great amount of will power not to seek him out. 

"If looks could kill," Joss said, brushing his lips against my ear as if in a lover's caress, "I'd be a stain on the floor right now." 

"Oh?" I was surprised by this information. I did not expect Obi-Wan to have any reaction at all. 

"He's seething." Joss laughed quietly. "A little jealousy won't hurt him. Maybe he'll figure out what he's given up." 

I had my doubts, but I said nothing. Joss told me that Obi-Wan had been watching me with the look of a starving man in sight of a banquet. I believe he is exaggerating the case. Even if Obi-Wan was jealous, I do not think it will be enough to cause him to change his mind about me. He has decided I am nothing to him. I do not believe that will change. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I've been having that vision again, only it's a lot more vivid this time. Something is going on. I can sense it. I don't think Maul's the danger. I think he's _in_ danger. I just wish I knew how and when--it's all so maddeningly vague! I can't get a clear picture, just this feeling of dread that keeps getting stronger, and I don't know what to do about it. 

Maybe I should keep an eye on Maul just to be on the safe side. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

The premonitions have returned. 

I thought the path to danger had been averted. 

No. It is here. There will be a confrontation soon. I must prepare.


	6. Chapter 6

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I've been watching over Maul for the last few days because those warnings have been getting stronger. Something is happening around him. I sense a disturbance in the Force, and it centers on him, but I don't think he's the cause, just the one who's going to feel the effect. Beyond that, I don't know. It's all still vague, and I can't get a clear of sense of what to look for no matter how often or how long I spend seeking answers in meditation. 

So I've just been hovering, waiting and watching. I haven't let _him_ know that, of course, but I've been there anyway just in case, and today the waiting ended. Maul left the Temple for the first time that I know of since his arrival. 

I followed of course, and he went directly to one of the commerce sectors. In the space of about an hour, he entered and exited two different shops, and when he came out of the second one, he'd stripped himself of every feature that distinguished him as a Jedi. 

He was wearing plain, solid black civilian clothes, and both his ponytail and the length of hair that was supposed to have been his braid were gone. I'd never braided it for him. He'd been waiting for me to all this time, but I'd refused, and now it was gone. He looked like any other resident of Coruscant, not like the Jedi in training he claimed to be. 

At first I was suspicious. I thought maybe he was about to meet with a contact of his Master's for the purpose of sharing information. I was half right. 

After that, he left the commerce sector and went somewhere I didn't even realize he knew about: the Crimson Corridor, one of the seediest, most dangerous areas on the planet. I wondered how he'd heard about the Corridor; it wasn't a place that Jedi frequented or even discussed often since it was a controversial topic. There were high-ranked Jedi--my Master included--who thought the Order should give as much attention to its base of operation as it did the rest of the galaxy. Petitions to clean up the Corridor and make Coruscant safer for all its citizens had been presented to the Council and voted down, although by a narrow margin, from what I heard. 

At any rate, somehow Maul had found out about it and apparently had business there. He kept moving, slipping through the shadows with such speed and cunning that I nearly lost him twice. Finally he seemed to find what he wanted, which turned out to be an abandoned warehouse with a large open storage room that had been so thoroughly scavenged that little remained but dust and useless debris. As I made my way swiftly and silently up to the catwalks above the storage room floor, I thought maybe he'd chosen the place because there would be no witnesses to his secret dealings, but later I realized he'd chosen it because it was large enough for what he knew would likely happen, and there was little chance any bystanders would be hurt. 

He lit two camp lanterns and sat down, and it looked to me as if he began to meditate, which surprised me. He'd come all this way for that? Then I felt it: a disturbance in the Force, this time tinged with Darkness. I reached out along the Force to see if the Darkness was coming from Maul, but I quickly realized he wasn't the source. It was outside of him, but coming for him, and he was calling it, letting whatever it was know where to find him. 

A faint mechanical hum cut through the stillness of the night, and as I watched, a small, round, solid black probe droid sped into the room, halting a safe distance from Maul and hovering in the air in front of him. He was seated with his back to me, so I couldn't see his expression, not that it probably would have done a lot of good anyway. He probably looked as neutral as always. I couldn't see him, but I could hear him address the probe: "Tell him I wait." 

Who? I wondered. His Master? 

I seethed with fury. This, I thought, was justification for every suspicion I'd had about him. He was finally proving his treachery without a doubt! All I had to do was witness the exchange, then report back to the Council that they'd been wrong, and I'd been right about this viper all along. 

Fairly vibrating with self-righteous indignation, I hunkered down on the catwalk, keeping myself out of sight as I waited and watched. It's a wonder he didn't sense me, but I was shielding against our bond tightly and trying to cloak my presence as best I could. I think that, plus his own preoccupation helped keep my presence a secret. 

I don't know how long we waited there; time seemed to slow to a crawl, and it was all I could do not to move around restlessly, but Maul just sat there, patiently waiting. I thought it was because he felt he had nothing to fear from whatever was coming. I was wrong. 

Finally a figure glided out of the shadows, black emerging from black, and as it moved into the dim circle of light cast by Maul's small lamps, I was barely able to keep from gasping aloud. 

It was another Maul. Black-clad, horns, tattoos--it was Maul! But this one radiated evil that I could feel even at a distance; it poured out of him, surging to a red-hot spike when he looked down at my Maul, who was still sitting calmly, regarding this dark mirror of himself as if it were some fascinating new insect. 

The Sith-thing circled him, glaring down at him, and I felt my stomach clench. I wanted to call out, to warn him, because I didn't trust that thing not to stab him in the back, but it didn't. Not this time, anyway. 

"Traitor," it hissed. 

Finally Maul stood up, rising in one fluid motion, and he nodded. "Yes." 

"You betrayed our Master." 

Gods, that voice--it _was_ Maul's voice, but so very different at the same time. It was like listening to an evil mockery of the soothing voice I knew so well, the voice that had annoyed me and teased me and calmed me. I'd never heard such venomous hatred in Maul's voice, and it chilled me to hear that thing speak now. 

Again Maul nodded, watching every move his double made. I could see he was alert, ready to spring into action, and I forced myself to sit still and not interfere. Obviously, this wasn't the kind of meeting I thought it was going to be. 

"You will pay." 

It wasn't a threat. It was a statement of intent. But Maul just shrugged. 

"Perhaps," he said, sounding as unruffled as usual. "Perhaps not. If you live, you may tell your Master I wish to be left alone." 

The Maul-thing laughed--a horrible, mocking sound. "He will hound you until you are dead." 

"He may try." 

This was met with a derisive sneer, and the creature reached out and flicked its fingers against Maul's chest in a contemptuous gesture. "You had the galaxy in your grasp. What did you trade it for? A life among the common, ignorant herd?" 

"I have no regrets," he replied. 

"I thought to have found you among the Jedi. At least there your talents would not be wasted. Weakened, but not wasted." 

I wish I could have seen his face when he answered, but his tone didn't change, didn't betray anything. "I have no interest in the Jedi. They are too weak to protect me." 

He lied... I was stunned, wondering why he'd done that, and then it struck me: changing his appearance, lying about where he'd been... He was trying to protect the Temple. He had met the Sith creature well away from the Temple and had removed all trace of his affiliation with us so that this thing couldn't attack him or anyone else there. 

"I profit more from remaining here. I understand greedy scum. I have been around it all my life." 

Despite the seriousness and danger of our situation, I almost laughed. That was my Maul, ever so calmly acerbic. 

The creature spat at his feet. "You are a fool." 

Suddenly it lunged, its lightsaber in its hand and ignited, and Maul was instantly in motion, whirling out of the path of the creature's blade even as he retrieved and ignited his own weapon, ready to defend himself. 

To defend. Not attack. 

It was eerie, watching them fight. They moved exactly alike, and if the Sith-creature hadn't looked like the old Maul, I don't know if I would have been able to tell them apart. They were well-matched, of course. Maul was fighting himself, after all, and so the creature knew how he attacked, how he defended. It would have been a stalemate, and I think they could have fought for hours, neither gaining the upper hand if... 

If it hadn't been for the fact that Maul lacked the drive, the fire of determination that drove the creature on. His skills were as finely honed as ever, but there was no heart behind them to give him an edge. He fought as if he didn't care what the outcome was. If he won, he won. If he didn't... 

Abruptly I remembered that fateful night between us, when he'd made himself vulnerable to me and I'd scorned him, causing the hope I'd always seen in his eyes to shrivel and die. I wondered if that was what held him back. He had nothing to fight for except himself, and perhaps to him, that no longer mattered much. 

Back and forth they went, and I struggled with myself, debating whether to intervene or not. Part of me wanted to rush to help defend Maul, but I held back, knowing him well enough to realize that this was a fight he would want to handle on his own. He was literally battling his past. 

As I watched, the tide of the battle turned, and suddenly the Sith creature kicked Maul, using the Force to add extra strength to the blow, and it sent Maul flying backwards into the remains of a wall. I heard a sickening THUD! on impact, and Maul fell to the floor; the Sith creature moved towards him, intent on striking while his enemy was incapacitated. 

Without hesitation, I leaped myself off the catwalk and landed behind Maul's motionless form, ready to defend him. 

As I stood there, glaring a warning at the Creature, I became aware of the tableau: me standing over Maul with my lightsaber ignited; Maul at my feet, unmoving; the Sith Creature stalking, ready to attack. 

My vision had come true. 

The Sith-creature appeared surprised to be met by an unexpected challenger, but it recovered quickly and attacked. I steered the creature away from Maul, who was beginning to stir, pushing himself upright again. I assumed he'd just gotten the wind knocked out of him and would jump back into the fray, and sure enough, he did. He'd dropped his lightsaber when he hit the wall, but he retrieved it and ran to my side. 

The Creature ignited the other end of his lightsaber, and I grew chilled again, remembering the last time I'd encountered such a weapon. Memories crowded my mind, but I pushed them aside, concentrating on the moment, on the fight at hand. I wished I'd practiced combating this weapon with Maul as well, but I hadn't. The thought of doing so had been too painful. But I'd been here before. And this time, I wasn't alone. 

Together, we went after the Sith-monster. We drove it back, and it was having a much more difficult time warding us both off, because I was eager to overcome it, and Maul seemed to be fighting with more of his usual fierce determination. Finally, it broke and darted down the corridor, probably in hopes of finding a way to surprise us... or to separate us. No... I couldn't let that happen again... Not again... 

Maul headed after it, but I stopped before we'd gone very far down the hall, and when he realized I wasn't with him, he stopped and looked back. 

_Don't leave me._

_Never._

And then we were on its trail again, opening our senses to the Force as we edged warily along the abandoned halls, trying to detect its presence before it could initiate a sneak attack. Maul was ahead of me, and the moment I felt a warning ripple, I grabbed his shirt and yanked just as he hopped backwards as far as he could without colliding with me--just as the creature sprang out at him as we left the close quarters of the hallway and entered another dilapidated room. Neither of us were quick enough, though, because the tip of the Sith's lightsaber slashed him across his stomach, and I smelled burned cloth and flesh, the familiar stench pulling me even further into memory. 

Maul doubled over, and the Sith seemed intent on me for the moment, drawing me into the room with it. It stalked me, and for an instant, I could see Maul's sinewy moves in the creature's gait. It possessed all of his grace, but none of his sensuality; his skills, but none of his talent; his intensity, but none of his determined spirit. It was a watered-down version of the Maul I knew. The attributes that make him what he is were absent from this dark copy. 

I burned with the desire to kill this creature as I had the one on Naboo, and I had no intention of letting history repeat itself. I had failed my Master. I would not fail Maul. 

I engaged it, but this time, I didn't make the same mistake I'd made before. This time, I let go of my anger, let go of the painful memories, and I concentrated on the now. I let the Force flow through me and guide me, and as I did, I felt a connection with the Force stronger than anything I'd felt since Qui-Gon died. It sang in my mind, in my blood, and I gave myself over to it completely. 

The Sith-creature attacked, and I blocked the attack easily, my body moving with an ease and grace I didn't know I was capable of. The Force was guiding me to where I needed to be to fend off the monster's blows. I'd never fought so well or with such mental clarity. For the first time in over a year, I was at peace. 

I danced backwards, taunting it, and behind it, I could see Maul closing in. Either his wound was shallow, or he was mustering his strength to finish the creature off, and with him, I knew either was possible. 

I kept on evading it until with a snarl of outrage and frustration, it lunged. I ducked and thrust my 'saber forward with both hands, impaling it just as Maul struck from behind, decapitating it. 

The body wavered, then toppled over. I stared at it, panting, sweat rolling down my face, the battle-rush slowly evaporating. My blood was pounding, and I could scarcely comprehend what had happened. I was in shock, still reeling from all the revelations and unexpected occurrences of the night, and all I could do was stand there, gaping at the lifeless corpse of the Sith we'd killed together. 

On the other side of the body, Maul deactivated his lightsaber and gave me one of those calm looks of his. 

"I hope," he said, his voice as quiet and level as ever, "this means you will believe me now when I say you killed a clone on Naboo." 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I dislike Healers. 

The wound I received was superficial. The clone's lightsaber did not cut deep. I have sustained far worse in the past, yet Healer Maede insisted that I must lie in bed for at least two days. She allowed me to return to my quarters. If I do not stay still, she will order me back to Med and immerse me in a bacta tank. 

I must correct myself. I have not returned to _my_ quarters. I have returned to Obi-Wan's quarters. Healer Maede does not trust me to remain alone. I admit she has grounds for suspicion considering my past behavior regarding injuries. Obi-Wan volunteered to watch over me while I recuperate. Why he did this, I still do not understand. 

He has been acting strangely since the confrontation with the clone. When we returned to the Temple, I wished to report to the Council immediately. Obi-Wan insisted that I needed to go to the Healers. We argued. 

Master Yoda appeared. He said anyone well enough to argue was well enough to give his report. We went to the Council. I could feel Obi-Wan's irritation. I sensed it was laced with concern. I do not understand why I could sense anything from him when we had both been closed off to one another for weeks. I had not dropped my shields, and I did not know of any reason why he would drop his. 

The Council wished to know how I knew the clone was on Coruscant. I explained that I had received warnings through the Force. I did not know where the clone was, but I could sense its presence once it arrived. It was, after all, a part of me, which made the connection stronger. It was simply a matter of eliminating any connection between myself and the Temple and going to meet it. 

"Why did you hide your association with the Temple?" A Council member demanded. 

"In order that you have longer to prepare against Sidious," I replied. "There is a chance, albeit a small one, that he knew only that I was on Coruscant but not specifically where. If he learns of my presence here, the Jedi and the Temple itself will be made targets of direct attack sooner." 

Obi-Wan surprised me by revealing he had received warnings as well in the form of a vision that had haunted him. It came true during the battle, he said. 

The sent a steady barrage of questions: did I know about this clone when I left my former Master? were there others? would I be able to detect them as well? 

My former Master did not reveal his plans to me. The only information he trusted me with was the bare minimum needed for me to perform my duties. That was all. I do not know what his cloning capabilities are or how extensively he has created these creatures. Eventually, they seemed satisfied that I had told them all I know, and I was released to go to the Healers. 

Obi-Wan insisted on accompanying me. 

"I do not require assistance," I told him. 

This was our first meeting since that night. I had no wish to remain in his presence any longer than necessary. He had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me. There was nothing more between us. Or so I thought. He appeared to have other ideas. 

"Maul, you've been thrown into a wall and singed with a lightsaber," he reminded me, as if I were not aware of the wounds myself. "I want to make sure you make it there safely." 

"When did you begin caring whether I live or die?" The words were out before I could hold them back. I regretted them. They revealed more than I wished him to know. 

He looked at me as if I had struck him. He did not answer. 

We walked in silence to the Med level. Once there, the Healers took over, and I did not see him again until my injuries had been attended to. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

The Healers said Maul could go home as long as he stayed still for a couple of days and didn't push himself too much. I knew that was like asking the sun not to rise, so I volunteered to take care of him until he was fully recovered. That sounds like I'm being altruistic, but I'm not. If the only way to get him back in our quarters where he belongs is to manipulate him into it, I'm not above doing that. 

I've realized something. What amazes me now is that it took me so long to figure it out, but now that I have, I'm going to take action. I've got him home now, and as soon as he's up to it, we're going to have a nice long talk about our future. 

Right now, I'm not sure what the hardest part is going to be: getting through the barriers he's put between us because of my own stupidity, or making him behave long enough to heal! 

We've done little else but argue since the battle. First, he wanted to report to the Council instead of going to the Healers, and he wouldn't let me check the wound to see how deep it was. I reached out to lift his shirt and take a look, and he backed away skittishly, shielding his stomach from me, like he thought I'd try to hurt him even more. 

I wouldn't do that. Maybe once, when he first arrived and I hated him, but now... things are different. Only I've done so much, I don't know if he'll ever be able to trust me again. 

But he's here, and that's a start. He doesn't _want_ to be here, but he's got no choice. It's this or the bacta tank. 

On second thought... Maul's stubborn. If he really didn't want to be here, he would've told the Healers to throw him in the tank and have done with it. Compared to some of the things he's endured in the past thanks to Sidious, being immersed in a bacta tank for a while would be child's play. Maybe... just maybe there's a part of him deep down inside that wants to be back home with me, and he's willing to cling to any excuse too. 

Anyway, once we got back here, he headed straight for his old room, and I stopped him. 

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked, bracing my fists on my hips as I glared at him. I was determined to act with some distance, because I think anything else would unsettle him too much now. There's no need to rush. 

He looked at me blankly. "To bed, as instructed." 

"Not in there, you're not," I told him, then pointed to my room. "In there." 

There was a long pause, and I wished, not for the first time, that he wasn't so good at hiding his reactions. I couldn't read his face and tell what he was thinking. Even his eyes were shuttered. 

"I do not see a need to switch rooms," he said at last. 

"We're not switching," I replied. "We're sharing." 

There was another really long pause. 

"Why?" he asked cautiously. 

I gave him my best bland look. "I'm supposed to keep an eye on you. How can I do that at night if you're in another room?" 

I forced myself to keep breathing steadily, knowing this was a turning point, and his answer would tell me a lot about how much hope I could have for how things would turn out. This time, the silence spun out until I began to think he wasn't going to answer at all, just turn and walk away, but he nodded warily at last. 

"As you wish." 

I could barely keep from laughing. Whether he realized it or not, he'd just given me the answer not only to sharing a room and a bed but to the possibility of sharing a life as well. 

But there was something I needed to do first. 

"Get some rest," I told him. "I'll be out here if you need me." 

He gave a terse nod, then disappeared into the bedroom. I waited a few minutes until I was certain he was settled, then I knelt on the floor next to the doors leading out to the balcony. Outside, I could see hundreds of thousands of glittering lights dotting the blackened landscape of Coruscant. Skycars zoomed along as people hurried to get home or to the night's chosen amusement. If I had stood on the balcony and looked down, I could have seen a bustle of activity that would never stop no matter what the hour. Coruscant was always awake, always busy. 

Always chaotic. 

Like me. 

I closed my eyes and cleared my mind, letting my thoughts settle. Gradually, I moved into a state of peaceful nothingness, and it was time for me to begin my work. 

For the first time, I examined myself, my emotions, and my actions since Naboo without filtering everything through anger, fear, guilt and loss. I took a hard, unflinching look at all I had allowed myself to become, and I was ashamed. 

From infancy, I had been taught how to cultivate a peaceful life. Even before becoming a Padawan, I'd spent years learning the foundation upon which the rest of my training should have been built and on which I should have relied during my time of crisis. 

_There is no emotion; there is peace._

I had allowed my emotions to rule me. When Qui-Gon died, I let myself wallow in a pit of despair, blaming myself for his death. I allowed fear of failure to turn into anger at myself, at the Council, at Maul--at life itself. I almost allowed anger to turn into hatred. I almost took the first step onto the Dark path. I thank all the listening gods that I didn't fall so far. 

Even though I had been taught as a child that releasing my emotions was the only way to avoid letting them control me, I clung to them, refusing to let them go. Instead, I relived them every day. Through my constant mental repetition, I turned them into a mantra, a meditation. 

Your focus determines your reality, and I created mine by refusing to let go of the past, refusing to accept the truth, refusing to apply the lessons I'd learned, refusing to let go and move on. 

I had many negative emotions. I had no peace. 

_There is no ignorance; there is knowledge._

I was willfully blind to the truth. 

I knew I wasn't to blame for Qui-Gon's death. He made a bad decision--to face the Sith clone without me--and it cost him his life. I made mistakes as well--I shouldn't have given in to my anger, for one thing--and so did the Sith. It should never have stopped to gloat. There were many different factors involved in what happened during that fateful encounter. To take the entire burden of responsibility onto myself is not only unfair to me but to the others as well. I'm not wholly accountable for what happened, and they aren't entirely blameless. 

But I allowed my emotions to distort my thinking, not only about what happened but also about Maul. The truth is, I didn't want to believe him, but I did. Deep down, I knew there was no way he could withstand having every member of the Council probe his mind and still manage to hide something from all of them. He's strong in the Force, but not _that_ strong. 

I denied the truth of everything he said, the truth of everything I felt. I didn't want to love again. Love was too dangerous, too painful. I allowed fear to rule me and to transform into anger at Maul. I used him as a convenient target because I couldn't bear to face my true feelings, and because I wanted to cling to my own ignorance. I hurt him as deeply as I could, and then I drove him away. 

Oh, yes, Kenobi--there's the action of an honorable Jedi. Of a peaceful man. 

The Council was wrong. I didn't pass my Trials. I failed them. When I was put to the test, I wasted everything I'd ever been taught, threw it away and let myself drown in pain, anger and fear. I failed my Trials, I failed my Master in ignoring all he taught me, I failed Maul, and I failed myself. 

But there's nothing that says I can't start over. 

I was blind, but now my eyes are open. 

I was ignorant, but now I know the truth. 

I was in turmoil, but now I know peace. 

In that meditation there on the floor of our common area, I made a silent vow: I would begin anew. I would apply the lessons I'd been taught with conscious, mindful diligence. I would practice what I'd learned with every thought, word and deed instead of treating it all like some theory meant for study rather than everyday use. 

I would be the Jedi I was trained to be at last.   



	7. Chapter 7

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I have to leave. Now. I do not know how much more of Obi-Wan's solicitude I can stand. 

First, he insisted that I share his room. Then he insisted on seeing me comfortably settled in his bed. 

It has been little short of torture. 

When going to bed on my first evening in his quarters, he would not even let me undress alone. I allowed him to help remove my boots and pull off my shirt. Then he touched the dressing swathed around my waist with something akin to gentleness before reaching for the fastenings of the trousers I had bought in the commerce sector as part of my disguise. I caught his hands. 

"No. Out." 

It was not a request. He frowned and appeared to be on the verge of arguing. I shook my head and pointed to the door. 

"I am not helpless." 

He backed away and shrugged as if it did not matter, but before he turned to leave, I thought I saw amusement sparkling in his eyes. 

I borrowed a pair of his sleep pants until my own belongings are brought here. Now I am in his bed. Wearing his clothes. Breathing in his scent. He surrounds me, and I find the defenses I erected against him are dissolving like mist in sunlight. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Last night, I considered sleeping in Maul's old room to give him some space and time to adjust, but then I thought there was no sense in wasting time or an opportunity, so I joined him anyway. 

He was reading when I walked in, but he doused his light and turned away as if he was eager to go to sleep. I undressed and slipped into bed only to find him lying on his side as close to the edge of the bed as he could possibly get without falling off. In the darkness, I reached out and touched his back and felt him tense immediately. 

"Good night, Maul," I said softly. "If you need anything, wake me." 

He didn't answer, and I curled up on my side, facing him, resisting the desire to get closer. He wasn't ready, and I plan to court him as slowly as I need to in order to win his trust back. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Maul's been withdrawn since he's been here, watching me and not saying anything without thinking it over carefully first like he doesn't want to risk saying too much or the wrong thing. That's not to say he won't _argue_ with me, of course! I've had a difficult time getting him to rest today. He complained that he's fully capable of teaching his class because it doesn't require him to spar with anyone. All he has to do is oversee them while they practice. 

"No," I told him firmly. "It won't hurt to cancel the next few classes until you're fully recovered." 

"But--" 

"If you go, I know exactly what will happen," I said, cutting off his protests. "You'll see someone who needs help, and you'll end up showing them what to do yourself instead of just talking them through it. It'll be a strain, and you don't need to do that. Just rest and let the bacta do its job." 

He folded his arms across his chest and plopped back against his pillow; if I didn't know better, I'd swear he was pouting. 

"I suppose you expect me to sit in here all day, surrounded by your slovenliness and not do anything about _that_ either," he said at last, and I covered my mouth with my hand to hide a grin. 

If he was complaining about my untidy room, he was definitely feeling better. 

"No, you may come into the common area with me as long as you don't exert yourself," I said magnanimously. 

Again, it only looked like I was being altruistic. I thought that if we were at least in the same room together, we'd have a chance to start mending our relationship. 

He didn't waste any time getting out of bed and dressing in a loose tunic and leggings. His clothes had been brought over earlier, but I hadn't mentioned that so had all his other things as well. I'd simply put them out of sight in his old bedroom for now. 

The morning was quiet enough, other than me having to stop him from getting up and down repeatedly. He kept trying to do things for himself, and I kept ordering him to be still or I'd report him to the Healers. Eventually I realized what he needed was a distraction from his own helplessness--that had to be plaguing him. So I put aside the text about Force-visions Master Yoda had given me to read and approached the couch, where Maul was currently stretched out without appearing the least bit relaxed. He just looked up at me and said nothing, his full lower lip pushed out not quite enough to be called a pout but certainly enough to be called tempting. 

"Sit up," I instructed, and he arched one eyebrow but did as I asked. I sat down, then patted my leg. "All right, you can lie down again." 

The eyebrow stayed arched, the mouth thinned, and the eyes clearly said, "you have _got_ to be kidding." 

Amazing how eloquent one man can be without saying a word. 

"Come on, I'm volunteering my services as a pillow here," I said, keeping my voice light and teasing. "How often do you get an offer like that? Lie back, put your head in my lap, and we'll talk for a while." 

Our gazes locked, and I knew he was trying to read me without resorting to using our bond. He was probably trying to figure out if this was another set-up for rejection and if it was worth taking a chance. I could only hope he would consider the risk--consider me--worth it. 

After what felt like an eternity, he finally moved--and lay down again with his head in my lap. I released breath I barely knew I'd been holding and sent up silent thanks. 

"There's something I'm curious about," I said by way of starting our conversation. 

"Yes?" 

Resting one hand on the top of his head, I stroked his hair; I hoped that he would find it soothing and reassuring. At the very least, I was enjoying the feel of the short, soft strands tickling my skin. I rested my other hand on his chest, not quite draping my arm across him in an embrace but certainly suggesting it. 

"Where did you find out about the Crimson Corridor?" 

There was a long silence, and then, very quietly, "I have been there before." 

"But I didn't think you'd left the Temple since--" Realization dawned. "Oh... you mean... _before_." 

"Yes." 

He fell silent again, and I wasn't going to question him further; if he wanted me to know the details, he'd tell me. I simply continued to enjoy having him so close and being able to touch him in some way. 

"It was not long before," he added after a time. "One of the Neimoidians attempted to sell information regarding the blockade. My Master ordered me to silence him and all those he had been in contact with." 

My hand stilled its movement as the implication of his words sank in. 

"Including Darsha Assant and her Master?" I asked. 

He looked a question at me, and I explained, "She was a Padawan. Her Trials involved bringing an informant to the Temple, but..." I trailed off, knowing he would be able to fill in the rest if he'd been involved. 

"I did not know her name," he replied, his voice softer and deeper than usual, which I'd learned was, for him, an indication of emotion. "She was a worthy opponent, strong in the Force. I respected her abilities and those of her Master." He glanced up at me and must have seen in my face something of the conflict I felt. "You knew her." 

"Yes, we were about the same age," I said, and my own voice had grown husky. "We weren't close, but I knew her well enough to know she would have been a great Jedi." 

"She was a great Jedi," Maul said, and hearing that made the knot in my chest loosen somewhat. 

It was difficult, being faced with his past again. But I knew what he had been. He didn't deny it, and neither could I, but I could forgive him, and I did. How could I fault him? He'd known no other life than one steeped in Darkness; I'd known no other life than one glorying in the Light. His mistakes were made from ignorance of any other way to live. My mistakes were based on my choice not to follow what I'd been taught, and I knew I was in no position to cast any stones. His mistakes were in the past--as were mine--and he had chosen to turn to the Light. He was as much a Jedi as I. 

I resumed stroking his hair, and he let me. After a few minutes of silence, I asked him something--I don't remember what--about the class he was teaching, and that led to other subjects, and we spent a pleasant, relaxing morning just talking. 

It was the closest thing to normal interaction we'd had since his return, and it gave me hope. 

But that afternoon was very different. Instead of the quiet, restful time I'd hoped for, we had a steady stream of visitors--all to see Maul. Knights and Padawans from the class he taught dropped by to visit with him and make sure he was all right. They were genuinely concerned, and they treated him with friendly warmth. 

Especially Jossen. 

When _he_ walked in, Maul greeted him with a small but distinctly pleased smile. He _smiled_. He's never smiled at me. 

I remembered that cozy little scene in the dining hall, and I wondered just how close they'd gotten. A lot closer than Maul and I had ever been, I could tell that much. With Jossen, Maul seemed at ease, and he talked freely. There were no guarded looks or carefully chosen words. They looked comfortable with each other, and I watched their interaction with growing envy, wondering if Maul now regretted that the Force had bound him to me. 

But if people, including Maul, treated me with careful distance now, it was my own fault. I'd woven shields around myself and hidden behind them, too afraid to risk reaching out because I didn't want to be hurt again. I'd once been able to laugh and talk like that. I'd once been happy and care-free. But that part of me died on Naboo--or so I had thought. Now I knew it had merely been dormant, waiting for me to breathe life into it again. 

The ironic thing is that Maul's got more companionship than I do. If his guests were any indication, he's actually made friends. For some reason, that surprised me. I guess I thought he'd spent our time apart lonely and languishing away for me, but I got conclusive proof he'd done nothing of the kind. He'd moved on with his life after I'd tossed him out of mine. 

It was a wake-up call for my ego for certain. 

There are probably still those who still see him as an ex-Sith, but it seems like the people he's been in close contact with have grown to like and trust him. 

Except me. I was living with him, bonded to him, and I refused to see what was right there in front of my face. 

Well, that's over. I may have almost let history repeat itself once, but it won't happen again. It's clear now that he doesn't need me, but that doesn't mean he won't ever _want_ me again. I've been given a second chance, and I won't mess it up. I'm going to give him a day or two to rest, and then we're going to talk. He's not up to it yet, though. After our guests all left, I could look at him and tell he was tired. 

No surprise, really, considering all the company he'd had, so I gave up and encouraged him to go to bed. He didn't argue, which told me everything I needed to know about how weary he must have been. 

I stayed up a while longer to meditate on my jealousy and channel it into a more useful outlet, such as how best to go about healing the rift between us. When I went to bed at last, he was lying on his back, deeply asleep; I knew he wasn't faking it to avoid me because when I trailed my fingertips down his arm, he didn't flinch or tense up, and I could see the lines of fatigue on his face had smoothed out. Even in sleep, his face was somber, but softer somehow, and the wariness was gone. He looked so young... Awake, his eyes reflect the experiences of his life, and he seems older, far more wise and mature. But asleep, he looks younger than me, and I sometimes wonder what his true age is. 

I crawled under the covers and lay on my side, facing him, just watching him and wishing I could do something to erase that guarded look he wore when he was awake. With a quiet sigh, I nestled into my pillow, ignoring the longing to curl up next to him--and then I thought, why not? I could always claim it just happened while we both slept if he complained. 

Scooting closer, I positioned myself so that I could rest my head on his pillow and lean my cheek against his shoulder, and I draped my arm across his chest well above the wrappings around his stomach. Just this little contact even though it was stolen and unreciprocated made me relax, and it wasn't long before I was asleep, too. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

Ever since we confronted the clone, Obi-Wan has been behaving differently. I still do not have an explanation for it. Every night I go to sleep, surprised he has not asked me to return to my own quarters. Every night, I am certain tomorrow will be the day he asks me to leave. 

Every morning, I wake up in his arms. I have stretched my recuperation time to nearly a week now. At first, we remained on separate sides of the bed. Then one morning, I woke to find him next to me, his arm draped across me. The next, he was pressed against me from behind. The next... 

We have become increasingly tangled. 

During the day, he is pleasant. I sense none of the anger or resentment from him that I used to. If I did not think it impossible, I would say he is even flirtatious, but it is my belief that he is simply attempting to make amends for the past. I must admit I am enjoying his new manner. I cannot bring myself to leave. I will remain until he asks me to go. 

I have no doubt that request will come any day. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Well, the subtle approach hasn't worked, so I guess it's time to be more direct. I've tried being open and friendly to show Maul that things are different now, but he's still treating me with the same polite distance. I'm on the outside, peering over his walls, and he's not showing any signs of letting me in. 

Not even practically crawling on top of him at night is working. 

_I'm_ enjoying it, though. 

This morning, I woke up before he did, and I had time to savor the position we were in, which was facing each other with our arms around each other, and I'd managed to get my knee between his legs. Careful not to wake him, I slid closer and eased his thigh over my hip so that we were in full contact, then I buried my face against his neck, nuzzling his warm skin with my lips. If it had woken him, I would have claimed to have been dreaming, but he only sighed and nestled his cheek against my hair in slow, sleepy motions. 

I tightened my arms around him and held him as close as possible while I could. As soon as he woke, I knew he would pull away from me, refusing to meet my gaze as if the very idea of being so close to me, even in sleep, was distasteful. Ever since the morning when we discussed his involvement with the Crimson Corridor, he had kept his distance, as if he considered our closeness that day a regrettable mistake. But despite his aloofness during the day, the way he reaches out to me at night gives me hope that eventually I'll be able to earn his trust again. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

This evening, the moment I have awaited arrived. 

When he visited today, Joss invited me to walk in the meditation garden with him. "You need to get out of these quarters for a while," he announced. 

Obi-Wan frowned, as if the idea displeased him. "Just be careful and don't tire yourself out," he warned. 

"Don't worry, I'll take very good care of him," Joss replied as he put his arm across my shoulders, winking to let me know he was deliberately teasing Obi-Wan. 

It appeared to work. That is another reason why I am distrustful of Obi-Wan's motives. He believes Joss is a rival. I do not know if his sudden attention to me stems from genuine emotion or from jealousy. If jealousy is the reason, he will lose interest again once he thinks Joss is no longer a threat. 

Obi-Wan stopped me before I could leave, pulling me aside. I waited for him to speak, but he said nothing at first. Instead he put his hand on my cheek and brushed his thumb across my mouth, then ran it gently beneath my lower lip. A simple caress, but it caused an answering flare inside me. I wish he did not have the power to affect me in such a way. But he does. He always will. 

"There are things we need to discuss, you and I," he said for my ears alone. "Tonight. It's time, so don't overdo it." 

I nodded, but said nothing. I could not. My throat had closed up. His words were the deathknell of my time with him. I had no doubt the discussion he wished to have would center around dismissing me from his life again. 

Even if it was not... 

I loved him. My trust, however, had been shaken. He had seemed receptive once before, but when I revealed the truth of my heart, he rejected it. I could not trust that he would not do so again. I had to be careful of showing him too much this time. 

I loved him. But my life was my own, and I could live it without him. I did not need him. I had a purpose. I had companions. That would suffice. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

I decided that it was time for Maul and I to discuss our future. I knew I had some explaining to do, and I was ready to let him know how much things had changed. He'd gone off with that Jossen person again, but when he returned, I was waiting for him. He must have guessed I would be, because when he walked in, his expression was one of guarded wariness. 

Sighing, I gestured for him to join me on the couch, but he shook his head and remained standing. He looked resigned, as if he was about to face a dressing-down from the Council and was determined to bear it stoically. I shrugged and stood up, grasping his arm and leading him out to the balcony where we'd had some of our most enjoyable talks. I hoped that the atmosphere would help him relax a little. 

"I have something I've been wanting to tell you," I said, not bothering to dance around the issue. 

Maul's lips thinned into a grim line, and he squared his shoulders. "I can leave tonight if you wish." 

"What?" I stared at him, surprised that he'd made the assumption I was kicking him out... but then again, I suppose I shouldn't have been. All he'd known at my hands was rejection. Why should he expect anything else now? A tight band squeezed around my heart at the thought, and I silently vowed to show him that he would never suffer rejection from me again. I'd show him as many times as I needed to until he believed it. "No, that's not it. I don't want you to leave." 

He lifted his eyebrows, but said nothing. 

"I don't want you to leave," I repeated. "Ever." 

"What exactly do you mean?" he asked, his dark blue eyes trained on me, watching my every move and expression intently. 

"I mean," I said, choosing my words carefully, "I want you to stay here permanently. Will you?" I stood close to him and rested my fingertips against his cheek. 

He remained silent and still for a while, then he caught my wrist and removed my hand. "Why?" The question came out harsh, unlike his usual smooth, low tone. "Why do you want me to stay here? Why are you acting like this now?" 

"The confrontation made me realize a lot of things," I stated bluntly. "Yes, I know you're not the one who killed my Master, but at this point, even if you were, I wouldn't care. You're not that man anymore. You've changed your life and yourself completely, and you've become an honorable man. You _are_ a Jedi Knight, Maul. Your life exemplifies the Light now, even more than mine has at times." 

I smiled ruefully. "You've attained the peace that's eluded me for too long. You don't need me to teach you anything. You've learned it all by yourself the hard way. If anything, I should learn from _you_." 

"Obi-Wan..." He stared out across the Coruscant horizon, but I grasped his chin and made him look at me again. 

"It's true," I insisted. "I don't see you as a former Sith anymore. I don't blame you for what happened on Naboo or for everything I went through afterwards. Instead of releasing my anger and pain, I clung to it and I chose to believe it was your fault when I was the one to blame for hurting myself so long." 

Doubt still lingered in his eyes, and I wanted nothing more than to erase it. 

"I want another chance, Maul," I told him softly, imploring. I would beg if I had to; our relationship was important enough for me to take whatever risks I needed to in order to earn his trust again. "Will you give it to me?" 

I saw a flicker of emotion cross his face, but it was quickly repressed, and he remained impassive, not pulling away from me, but not drawing any nearer either. 

"Why?" 

A sick knot of dread tightened in my stomach, and I was certain I was fighting a losing battle. Maybe I'd finally come to trust him only when he'd already lost his trust in me for good. 

"Because I loved..." I drew in a deep breath. This was the most difficult thing I'd ever had to say, but I knew I had to. If I wasn't honest with myself and with him now, then I _would_ lose him. I'd hidden the truth for too long. "Because I loved Qui-Gon, and I never told him, and I don't want to make that mistake with you too." 

For a moment, Maul just stared at me, and I think if he hadn't possessed such strong self-control, his jaw would have dropped. 

"I thought you were lovers," he said, almost more to himself than to me. 

"No." I shook my head. "I was afraid to tell him how I felt. I thought he'd say I was too young, or that he wasn't interested in me. I never took the chance that he might say he loved me too, and so..." I trailed off, feeling my throat going tight. "He died, and I had to live with everything I never said. I've been a fool twice over, and history almost repeated itself. I could have lost you, too, and if I had, I would have had even more regrets to bear." 

"What regrets?" he asked quietly. 

I was standing close enough that I could feel his heat, the energy of his living aura surrounding him, but I wasn't touching him, wasn't embracing him. Not yet. He was relaxing, not holding himself so rigidly away from me, and I could sense his breathing begin to quicken. 

"That I'd misjudged you for so long because of my own blindness." I leaned closer, whispering the words against his ear. "That I'd allowed my fear of loss and rejection to control me. That I'd never told you how I felt. That we'd never made love." 

He drew in a sharp breath then, and I felt his hands at my waist, resting there, but not holding me. 

"How do you feel?" 

I cradled his cheek in my palm again, and this time, he leaned into my touch rather than pushing me away, and a flare of hope rose within me. "I realize now that what I felt for Qui-Gon was a love that would not-- _could_ not have lasted, if it was even real at all. The more I meditate on it, the more I see that I was confusing loving him with being in love with him. He was everything to me: master, father, object of desire. But even if the romantic love had been real, I would have been his apprentice first and his lover second. That we were first and foremost master and padawan would have shaded our relationship. Neither of us would have truly been able to see each other as equals because we didn't begin that way." 

Caressing his cheek with my thumb, I closed the distance between us and kissed him, barely touching my lips to his. "We meet as equals," I told him. "And I love you not as a mentor or father-figure as I loved him, but as the companion of my soul. I loved him. I'm in love with you." 

"Obi-Wan..." It was a groan, a plea. 

"You promised," I murmured, then nipped gently at his lower lip. "You promised you'd never leave me." 

"No, I will not." His voice was husky with emotion or passion or maybe both. "Never." 

"Then stay with me." 

"Yes." 

I reached down and clasped his hand, and he laced his fingers with mine. Together we walked to our bedroom to share it as lovers for the first time. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

"Stay with me." 

A simple request, one I had longed wanted to hear. I understood why he had lashed out at me for so long. I understood that he had needed a convenient target--a convenient villain--to blame for the unpleasant turn his life had taken. He had to find his own path back to peace, and neither I nor anyone else could help him more than he allowed. I felt compassion for all that he had suffered, and I was pleased that he had finally reached a measure of peace. 

But he asked me to trust him again. To open myself to him. I did so once. The results were unpleasant, and I have no desire to subject myself to further rejection and pain. 

I wanted to trust him. 

I wanted _him_. 

That much was obvious when I heard myself saying "yes" and found myself being led into his bedroom. My heart and my body had conspired to over-rule my head. 

Very well. I would comply. But I would not make myself vulnerable to him again. As much as I wanted to trust him, I also knew from past experience that this capricious mood of his would not last. He drew me close now, but soon, he would push me away again. 

I would be prepared. I would not respond. I would keep my shields intact. I would give him my body, but not my heart. 

I would not allow myself to be hurt. 

* * *

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

Once we were in our room, we stopped by the bed, and we both hesitated. I don't know what the source of Maul's reticence was, but I was conflicted. Part of me wanted to wanted to go slowly and savor our first time together. I assumed he had very little sexual experience if any at all, so I wanted to make it good for him and special for us. That meant taking the time to touch and explore, and I especially wanted to see if I could break through his aloof mask and drive him out of his mind with desire. I wanted him to lose control in my arms, to know that he loved, desired and trusted me enough to let go completely. 

The other part of me was a quivering mass of frustration and lust, and it wanted to tear his clothes off, throw him on the bed and get underway _right then_. 

I reached a compromise with myself: I decided to start off slow and see how Maul reacted and what he wanted. If he showed me he wanted to pick up the pace, then I'd happily oblige. 

That decision made, I diverted myself only to retrieve the tube of lubricant I'd put in the drawer of the table next to our bed, the result of optimistic thinking. Then I slipped my hands beneath the loose undertunic he wore, initiating the next stage because he still hadn't moved. He was watching me intently, yes, but he wasn't doing anything, which struck me as unusual. In the past, he hadn't hesitated to respond, and often he'd been the one to reach out to me. I remembered _very_ clearly that day in the practice room when he'd caused us both to stumble and then had nearly kissed me. 

He hadn't been shy then, and I wondered what was holding him back now. Nerves, perhaps. If this was his first time, maybe he was concerned about what to expect or what to do. Whatever the reason, I was determined to dispel it for good. There wasn't any need for him to hold back from me, not now, and by the time this night was over, he would know it. 

I stepped closer, and I slid my hands up his back, spreading my fingers wide so I could feel every possible inch of warm, silken skin and pushing the tunic off along the way. He stood unmoving as I pushed it off his shoulders and down his arms, then I let it drop to the floor. I saw the look on his face, the slight shake of his head when I did that, and I grinned. 

"You can fold it up neatly later," I said. 

"By then, it will be too wrinkled to salvage," he retorted. 

Cupping his face between my hands, I kissed him, running my tongue along his lower lip before sucking on it gently, then easing my tongue between his lips, tasting and exploring his mouth thoroughly before releasing him again. 

"Do you really care?" I murmured against his lips, tracing them with the tip of my tongue again. 

"No." 

"Good." I slid my hands down his body to rest at the small of his back, pulling him against me and kissing him again; this time, he responded, putting his arms around me at last and letting his tongue meet and mate with mine. As I left a trail of nipping, sucking kisses down his neck, he tilted his head back, baring his throat to me, and I felt his hands move down to grasp my hips and pull me tighter against him. 

But no matter how much he arched, no matter how tightly his fingers grasped me in response to my seduction, he didn't return my caresses, and he didn't try to undress me. Frustrated, I stepped back and studied him for a moment, trying to understand why he was being so uncharacteristically passive. "Passive" was never a word I had associated with this man, in or out of the bedroom, and I knew there had to be a reason for it. 

A light probe along our bond told me he was shielded. That was nothing new; he'd remained closed off to me ever since That Night, but I'd assumed he would lower them once we began making love. That he hadn't sent a clear message: he was making me prove this was real. 

Even in the dim light, I could see the reserved mask he wore and the wary look in his eyes. This was no joyful union for him; this was a test. I sighed quietly and ran my finger down his cheek, regretful that our first time together would be under these circumstances, but I had no one to blame but myself. I could think of times past when he would have come to my bed eager and open, but my fear had been holding me back then, and his fear was holding him back now. 

But I was determined to show him that the anger was all gone, and nothing remained but love. I would make love to him, communicating the depths of my feelings with every kiss, every caress. My lips, my hands, my tongue--my entire body would be devoted to teaching him to trust me again. I would give him whatever he needed to assure him that my arms were the safest place for him to be. 

The decision made, I focused on seducing him again, wanting to give him such pleasure that he couldn't help but respond. Being fully clothed made that difficult, and since it was clear he wasn't going to take an active role in our love-making, I removed my boots, my belt and peeled off my tunics and leggings myself. 

He looked at me, a slow, searching gaze that I could almost feel like a touch. His eyes darkened, but he didn't otherwise react, and I suppressed a frustrated sigh. This was going to be more difficult than I thought, but then, I was up against a very stubborn man. Still, I knew if he were dead-set against ever trusting me again, he would never have agreed to this at all; I would have been politely but firmly rebuffed, and we'd be sleeping in separate rooms from now on. Deep down, he wanted to be convinced that I truly loved him, and all I had to do was find the right way to convince him. 

I trailed my fingers down his chest to his stomach, then I nudged him. 

"Sit down," I instructed. "I'll take off your boots." 

He complied, and I knelt at his feet and pulled off his boots. He stood up again, but I remained kneeling, curling my fingers around his ankles. Leaning my cheek against his leg, I massaged his calves through the thin fabric of his leggings, taking the time to enjoy the feel of his training-hardened muscles. Slowly I made my way up his legs, and by the time I slid my hands up to knead his inner thighs, he was clutching my shoulders for support. 

I unfastened his leggings, pushed them down a little and nuzzled the soft skin at the joining of hip and thigh. "Tell me what you want." I tipped my head back and looked up at him, waiting for an answer. 

He reached down and skimmed his fingertips over my face. "You." 

I helped him out of his leggings and eased us both down onto the bed, covering him; he moved his legs apart so I could lie between them, and I rocked slowly against him, drawing a low moan from deep in his throat as if he didn't want to react even that much but he couldn't keep quiet any longer. I kissed and licked and nibbled my way down his chest, caressing him, teasing his nipples--anything to coax a response from him. He arched and writhed beneath my hands, and I could feel the tension in every line of his body, but other than that one moan of pleasure, he was silent. 

But the more I touched him, the more my own passion built; he was a glorious feast for my eyes and hands, and I desired him more than I had ever desired anyone before in my life. 

"Force..." I whispered, not trusting my voice at anything above that level. "Maul, I want you... I want to be inside you... Is that all right? I don't want to hurt you." 

He looked up at me solemnly, and there was something in his voice that got my attention when he spoke. "You will not hurt me." 

I blinked, startled, and pulled back so I could see his face clearly. "I thought... I assumed you hadn't ever..." 

He averted his gaze, but not before I caught a flash of shame in those dark blue eyes. Realization broke over me like a cold wave, and I stared at him, stunned into silence. 

"Sidious." It wasn't a question, it was a confirmation, but he nodded anyway, turning his head to avoid looking at me. 

"At the time," he said softly, "I thought it was a privilege. But," he moved his shoulders in what would have been a shrug if he'd been sitting up, "he used me in that as in all other ways." 

I was sickened, feeling an icy fist clench in my gut, not because of him but on his behalf. Out of all the horrors he'd suffered at Sidious' hands, I'd never dreamed that was on the list as well. I couldn't imagine any Master here taking advantage of his or her Padawan that way. Love was freely given between both partners, it wasn't taken or demanded. This revelation was just another example of the cruel, twisted mirror images of my way of life and Maul's. 

"You are disgusted." His voice was flat and lifeless, and he refused to look at me. 

"Yes." I touched his cheek, urging him to turn to me again, which he did with great reluctance. "But not by you. By him." I brushed a gentle kiss across his lips, then rested my forehead against his, feeling an inexplicable desire to gather him up in my arms and just hold him. "I want to make you mine. Not by force or coercion or strength. By love." 

"Then do so." 

For the first time, he took the initiative, summoning the lubricant on the table to his hand and, opening the tube; he poured a small amount into his palm, then reached between my legs to caress me, coating my shaft and preparing me. I groaned as he closed his fingers around me and slid his hand up and down slowly, stroking his thumb firmly along the underside until I couldn't keep myself from moving with him. 

He seemed to take that as a sign and released me, pushing me off so he could roll over onto his stomach, and I let him, panting with the need to be inside him, to claim him as mine and begin easing all the horrible memories from his past. I wasted no time positioning myself between his legs, but despite his assurances, unless he had taken a lover while we were apart, then it had been well over a year since he had been with Sidious, and I wasn't so desperate that I wanted to risk hurting him. 

"Has there been anyone recently?" I asked. 

"Does it matter?" He looked at me over his shoulder, and I saw suspicion in his eyes. 

"Only because I don't want to hurt you," I replied, lowering my head so I could trace symbols between his shoulderblades with my tongue. "If it's been a while for you, I could." 

He turned away again, resting his forehead on his folded arms. "No." The words were muffled but still audible. "There has been no one." 

Which meant Jossen wasn't his lover, I thought. Despite I had managed to redirect my jealousy along more positive channels, I had to admit being glad to learn this. 

I stretched out on top of him and nuzzled his shoulderblade with my cheek. We're a study in opposites, my lover and I. Neither of us are all that tall, but his broad shoulders and solid, stocky body are a direct contrast to my slender build. Both of us are strong, but his strength seems so grounded and sturdy that I've always found it odd that he has such an aerial style in combat. Looking at us, one would think he was the earth, and I the air. 

In some ways, that's not far off the mark. 

But at that moment, I wasn't concerned with our differences. I was enjoying breathing in the scent of his skin, enjoying the warmth of his flesh beneath my lips and tongue as I left a series of kisses along his spine. 

Then it was my turn to summon the lubricant, and I used it to coat my fingers. Propping myself on one elbow, I settled in, intending to take my time preparing him. I trailed one finger slowly down, feeling him shiver when I began to circle his opening. I continued to tease, wanting to coax a reaction from him, but he buried his face in his arms, and other than the tension I could feel building in his body, he gave away nothing. 

Disappointed but undaunted, I eased my finger inside, searching for the pleasure spot I knew lay hidden within; his entire body jerked when I found and stroked it, but otherwise, there was nothing. I pulled out and pushed in again with two fingers, carefully stretching him as I sought out the sensitive gland again. This time, I thought I heard a muffled cry, and I smiled wistfully, wishing I knew whether the pleasure he felt came from physical reactions he couldn't suppress no matter how much he tried, or if it came from desire roused by my touch and he wasn't ready to admit it. 

By the time I had worked three fingers in, we were both shaking, and I was drowning in images of losing myself within him, burning with need. Removing my fingers, I rested my forehead against the small of his back in an almost supplicating gesture. 

"Please..." My breath was coming in shallow, panting gasps. "Tell me..." 

"Now." Maul raised his head enough to speak clearly. "Do it now." 

He moved up on his hands and knees, and I wasted no time accepting the invitation. Grasping his hip with one hand, I guided myself forward, murmuring to him--nonsense words of love and assurance--then pushed into him slowly. The lubricant eased my passage, but he was still tight and oh, so hot around me. My fingers dug into his hips as I struggled not to thrust hard and fast as my body was urging me to do. 

I heard him give a low hiss, and I stopped. "Are you all right?" 

"Yes." His voice was a raspy growl. 

As if to prove it, he pushed back against me, sending me deeper, and I cried out, lost in the feel of being surrounded by my lover's body. I thrust deep, burying myself completely inside him, and he tangled his fingers in the bedclothes, his fists shaking. 

"Are you--?" I shook my head to clear it, suddenly afraid that I'd hurt him. 

"Do not stop." 

I set a steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out, then pushing in deep; reaching around him, I closed my hand around his shaft, stroking in rhythm with our movement, and I felt him begin to tremble, but he made no sound. _I_ was probably groaning enough for both of us, drowning in the sheer joy of joining with him at last. I thrust faster--harder--the tension coiling tighter and tighter within me until suddenly I felt his hips jerk beneath me, felt his seed spill over my hand, and his orgasm triggered my own. I cried out, my hips pistoning sharp and quick until the wave swept over and past me, leaving me shuddering in the aftermath of explosive pleasure. 

Maul lowered himself to the mattress, and I followed, wanting nothing more than to curl around his body, preferably while remaining buried within it. Instead, he broke the contact between us first, rolling onto his side and making it clear that I wasn't going to be allowed to stay in or on him. Reluctantly, I let him go, collapsing next to him; I thought he only wanted to get comfortable, but when I tried to wrap my arms around him, he scooted to the edge of the bed with his back to me, putting enough distance between us to let me know cuddling was out of the question. 

I frowned as I stared at his back, wondering why he was still so withdrawn. After what we'd just shared, I didn't understand why he felt the need. I thought he would realize how much I cared and that this was the beginning of our life together. 

"I'm going to clean up a little," I said, reaching out to caress his shoulder as I crawled out of bed. 

He just nodded without looking at me, and I retreated to the bathing room not only to clean up but also to clear my head and think for a moment about how to solve this problem. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

After Obi-Wan and I had sex, my body was sated, but my mind was not. 

I was not surprised that he was an attentive, thoughtful lover. I was surprised that he did not stop at any point and push me away. I was surprised that he seemed desirous of remaining in contact afterward. 

This time, I pushed him away. If I had let him remain close, the last of my already shaky walls would have crumbled. As I was still waiting for him to change his mind, I felt leaving myself vulnerable to him would not have been wise. 

Instead, I closed my eyes, curled around my pillow, and waited for the blow to fall.


	8. Chapter 8

**Obi-Wan Kenobi's Personal Log:**

When I got back to the bedroom, I was no closer to having an answer than I was before, but he gave me a few more minutes to think because he excused himself then and left me alone. 

I sprawled on the bed and released a quiet, frustrated groan. All I wanted was for things to be normal between us, but I didn't know how to make that happen. For one thing, there was nothing normal about us! An ex-Sith and a failed Jedi bound together by the Force just isn't something one sees every day. Not to mention, I spent months fighting my feelings and professing to hate him, so in all fairness, I had to concede it was understandable if he was wary of me now. 

When he returned, I sat up and looked at him, determined to have this out and settle the matter between us once and for all. 

"Maul, we need to talk," I said, ready to pester him all night if I had to in order to set things straight. 

Maul froze in mid-step, then his face went blank just like it did the night I lashed out at him. One moment, he appeared cautious but curious, and the next--nothing. His eyes and face were empty and unreadable. 

He grabbed his clothes off the floor and started throwing them on as quickly as he could, and I stared at him, wondering what had brought all that on. 

"What are you doing?" I asked, but he didn't stop. He'd already pulled on his leggings and was gathering up everything else, clutching the clothes to his chest like a shield. "Why are you getting dressed?" 

Finally he stopped and looked at me, and beneath the icy mask, I could see his eyes were bleak. 

"I know what you are going to say. This was a mistake. You regret it. You want me to go away so you can forget it ever happened." 

There was so much pain lacing his voice that I felt my throat close up, and it took a moment before I could force words out again. 

"Come here." I held out one hand to him as an invitation. "Sit down and listen." 

He didn't move, he just stood there, holding his clothes and gazing at me with a cold, dead expression. He was mere seconds from bolting, and if he got out the door, I knew he would never be back. 

"Maul, this is important," I insisted, still holding out my hand imploringly. "Don't make any assumptions, just listen to me." 

He still didn't move, and in a burst of frustration, I waved my hand in front of him. 

"You _will_ sit down and listen to me!" I exclaimed, but without Force suggestion behind the words; I knew he was both too strong-willed and too well-shielded for it to work. 

A tiny smile tugged at one corner of his mouth for about a nanosecond, and I knew I'd won even before he placed his clothes on the dresser and sat down. 

He perched on the very edge of the bed, keeping his back to me. His spine was ramrod straight, and I knew if I touched him, I would feel every muscle taut. His chin was up, and he directed his gaze to the opposing wall, staring at it as if on it were written the secrets of the universe, his mouth set in a firm line. There was nothing of softness or surrender in his posture. He was all warrior, braced for the blow he expected me to deliver and determined to reveal nothing of the pain it gave him. I felt like the lowest form of scum in existence. I scooted up behind him, wrapped my arms around his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him back against my chest whether he wanted to be there or not. 

"That's not what I was going to say," I told him, nuzzling the back of his neck to reassure him, and I could feel him trying to repress a shiver. "Just the opposite, in fact. I could feel you holding back from me, and I don't like it, but I know why you were." 

I ran my hands down his arms, caressing the muscles that lay like steel just beneath his skin, and I kissed his shoulder, then nipped at his earlobe, hoping to reassure him that he wasn't about to be tossed out--not from our bed, our quarters or my life. 

"Every time we have been intimate, you have rejected me," he said softly, so softly that I barely caught the words. 

"Every time? But there's only been two..." I trailed off, realization breaking over me like a wave. "That night I got drunk... That wasn't a dream, that was you!" 

He nodded. "You called out Qui-Gon's name." 

"Oh, Force, Maul..." I rested my cheek on his shoulder and just held him for a moment. "I'm sorry. I've hurt you so much, and the only excuse for it is that I was hurting too. But I want to start over. I want you to give me a chance to earn your trust again." 

He was silent, and that worried me. I lifted my head and tried to look at him, but he averted his face. 

"Do you love me?" I asked. 

"Yes." It was the barest of whispers, and I knew what it must have cost him to say it. 

"Do you believe I love you?" I asked, knowing this answer was even more important than the first. 

"I... do not know." 

"Then let me show you." 

I relaxed against him and dropped my mental shields, reaching out along our bond to show him the path was open. I felt his shields raised tightly against me, and I explored them, probing, seeking an entrance somewhere, and finally he lowered them just enough to sense me on a surface level. I could feel his reluctance, so I went slowly, not pushing, just offering him the chance to touch me through our bond. After a moment's hesitation, he did, and I wound comforting tendrils around him, opening myself to him more, letting him see the love I felt for him, that I'd kept hidden for so long. 

He probed deeper, and I welcomed him into my mind, letting him see whatever he needed to see in order to be reassured that my feelings and desires were genuine. I felt his initial bewilderment, felt it dissolve into amazement and quiet joy. 

Then I felt him lower his own shields. 

Eagerly I reached out, winding my way along our bond, and as soon as I touched his mind, I was stunned by what I saw: pure, blindingly bright love. For the Force, for life, for me. I felt consumed by the brilliance of it, and tears stung my eyes as I realized what a gift I'd been offered and how long I'd refused it. 

And there, flaring up bright and strong once more--hope. The same hope that had sustained him through escaping his Master, healing himself, begging Sanctuary from the Council, through every step of his training to shed his past and become a Jedi, through my dogged refusal to see the truth. I'd helped rekindle it once more, and I poured my heart onto the flame, urging it to burn higher and hotter than ever before. 

_My Obi-Wan._

Oh, Force, that voice inside my head... So warm and rich, I wanted to wrap myself up in it. It was almost too intense. 

_Yes, Maul... Yours... Always yours..._

He began withdrawing from my mind, but he didn't retreat behind shields again; he remained open to our bond, which was noticeably stronger now, and back in the world outside our minds, he looked at me over his shoulder. 

"This is real." 

"Yes." I smoothed my hand down his cheek. 

Unexpectedly, he broke away from me and stood up, gazing down at me with an inscrutable expression. 

And slowly, ever so slowly, he smiled. 

He rested both hands on his chest, then slid them down his torso, caressing himself along the way, then slipping his long fingers into the waistband of his leggings. My mouth went dry, and I could barely swallow as I watched. As much as I'd enjoyed undressing him, watching him tease me like that was unbearably erotic. I stared shamelessly, drinking in the sight of him as he unfastened his leggings, let them drop to the floor and stepped out of them, gloriously naked again. And he was growing aroused, I noticed smugly. 

He moved to the foot of the bed and began crawling on his hands and knees towards me, his eyes never leaving mine, stalking me. He was the predator, and I was his prey--and I loved it. I trembled with anticipation, wanting to grab him and haul him into my arms, but I didn't. I wanted to see what he was going to do, and fortunately I didn't have long to wait. 

Stretching himself out on top of me, he tangled his fingers in my hair, massaging my scalp as he kissed me deeply, nibbling and sucking on my lower lip. I twined my legs with his, moving against his hips in a thrusting motion that he soon matched, and we drowned in the slow torture of endless kisses and rocking bodies. 

Breaking away at last, he traced the outline of my ear with his tongue, then re-traced it with light nibbles, ending with a gentle tug on my earlobe. My other ear got the same treatment, and I dug my fingers into his back, letting him feel through our bond how much I was enjoying his ministrations. Then he began moving his way down my body, kissing, licking, nipping until I was gasping and clutching at him desperately. 

_More--please--more--_ I silently begged, and a soft, deep chuckle rolled through my head, the first time I'd ever heard Maul laugh, either mentally or aloud, and I held on to the echoes of it in my mind for as long as I could. It was a sound I would never tire of hearing. 

He fastened his mouth over my nipple, teasing it into a hardened nub with his tongue, then nibbling it gently before moving to the other one, and all the while, his hands roamed my body, seeking out the places that made me writhe with pleasure, stroking me with loving care, caressing me as if he couldn't get enough of touching. I mirrored his actions, sealing the memory of him in my fingers until he moved out of reach. He nuzzled his nose and cheek in my chest hair for a moment, then kept moving down, and I followed with my hands as long as I could, clinging to his shoulders, reluctant to let him go. 

When he began a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses up my inner thigh and back down again, I clenched my fists in the sheets, arching, needing, wanting so much I thought I would explode from the sheer intensity of it. It wasn't enough--I needed more--and Maul seemed to sense that. He sat up between my legs and looked at me, his expression somber. 

"I am going to make you mine." 

I thought I couldn't want him any more than I already did; I thought my desire couldn't get any more intense, but those simple words seared me. He was mine, I would be his, we would belong to each other. Through this life and beyond. 

This time, I summoned the lubricant. It was my turn to prepare him as he'd prepared me, and my hands shook, his hissing intake of breath at my first careful touch almost undoing me completely. He clutched my hips and moaned as I stroked him, and if I hadn't wanted him inside me so desperately, I would've brought him to completion just so I could watch his face as I gave him pleasure. 

I moved to roll over for him, but he stopped me, his words echoing my thoughts so closely that I wondered how strong our bond was now. 

"No. I want to see your face." 

Nodding, I lay down flat again and drew my knees up in a blatant invitation, but he took the lube from my hand instead. 

"How long?" he asked, and I stared at him blankly for a moment, a couple of naughty interpretations of his questions bouncing around my mind before I realized he was asking how long it had been since I'd had sex that way. 

"It's been a while since my last male lover," I admitted. "Three or four years, probably." 

Without a word, he swiped his forefinger across the opening of the tube, then trailed his finger with maddening slowness down the underside of my shaft and ended by tracing little patterns with his fingertip on my balls; I could feel the warm gel residue, the heat of his skin, the torturous lightness of his touch. 

"Then we will have to make certain you are adequately prepared," he said at last, and I threw my arm across my eyes and groaned. 

_Force_ , I thought, _my lover is an expert tease_. 

Although he did lubricate his fingers while I watched with greedy anticipation, he didn't begin to "adequately prepare" me right away. Instead, he settled between my legs on his side, propped up on one elbow, and began running his palm along my thigh, over my knee, down my calf and back again; the whole time, he watched the progress of his hand as if memorizing every inch of skin it covered. He drew his nails lightly along my inner thigh, making me shiver; he lifted my leg and traced figures on the back of my knee with his tongue, making me writhe. Both legs got the same slow, careful exploration--and then he turned his attention to what lay between them. 

I felt his mouth engulf my shaft and his finger penetrate me at the same time, and I nearly came off the bed--and into his mouth. 

"Force!" 

I quivered with taut need, pushed to the breaking point by the slow stroking of his finger inside me and the slow stroking of his tongue up, down, and around me. When he added a second finger, he also added light suction, and I began to shake, squeezing my eyes shut, gritting my teeth and willing myself not to come, not until he was inside me. Finally he entered me with three fingers in slow, careful little thrusts, stretching and filling me, and I opened to him willingly, wanting this, wanting him. 

"Maul--Force, I need you--inside me now--Maul, please--" 

I was babbling in my desperation to feel him buried inside me, and when he gave in to my pleas, moved over me and entered me with one hard thrust, I threw my head back and cried out with the ecstasy of it. 

"Did I hurt you?" He nuzzled my face with his nose and lips as if trying to soothe and comfort me, and I calmed my breathing down from shallow panting enough to speak and to return the gentle caresses. 

"No, I'm fine," I whispered as we traded light kisses. "It feels so good... so right." 

"Yes. It does. Obi..." 

"Maul..." 

He closed his mouth over mine and claimed me with his tongue as well, swallowing my cries as he pushed deep, pushed forward until he was completely inside me, and I felt his body pressed against mine, heated flesh against heated flesh. 

He began moving in... out... slowly at first but then quickening his speed. I rocked with him, against him, urging him faster and harder, wanting to feel him come inside me, wanting to know he experienced pleasure because of me. I kept my eyes open, watching him, wanting him to see him let go and lose control in my arms. 

Then he reached between my legs, closing his fingers around me, and all coherent thought fled from my mind as he stroked me. 

"Oh, Force, yes--yes, Maul--yes--!" 

I was thrashing beneath him, caught between the thrusts of my own body against his hand and his thrusts inside me, steady, rhythmic strokes against that sensitive gland. I hung suspended in an instant of infinite rapture--and then I exploded, bucking against his hand, calling out his name, melting in a sweat-drenched, sated heap. 

He hadn't yet come, but he was close; I felt his hips pounding against me as he moved in short, sharp thrusts, his fingers digging into my sides, and a heartbeat later, I heard him gasp my name as one last, hard thrust led to release, and I felt him come deep inside me. 

Maul shuddered, moving within me a few more times before collapsing on top of me; I managed to wrap my arms around him, and he returned the embrace, nuzzling my cheek. After a while, he eased out of me and rolled us both so that we were lying on our sides, facing each other, and we tangled our arms and legs, keeping as much skin-on-skin contact as we could manage as we both drifted towards sleep. 

"Maul... I have a question..." 

"Yes?" 

"Where," I asked sleepily, without opening my eyes, "did you learn to make love like that?" 

There was silence for a moment, then I felt him nestle closer and brush his lips against my neck. "I have had a long time to imagine how and where I wanted to touch you. As you well know, I am--" I felt his slight smile against my skin. "--very detail oriented." 

"Feel free to pay as much attention to the details as you like," I murmured, earning an affectionate squeeze in response. 

I drowsed in his arms, on the verge of sleep, and the last thing I remembered before drifting off was being surrounded by warm thoughts of love--mine, his, ours. 

* * *

**Maul's Personal Log:**

I thought it was a dream. 

When I awoke this morning, memories of last night crowded my mind. I thought I was remembering a pleasant dream. Then I realized I was curled around a slender body, sharing its warmth. I opened my eyes and saw Obi-Wan. I was still drowsy, still unconvinced the events I remembered were real. We had woken in each other's arms before. This time, we lay like spoons. I was holding him close, but that was not an indication that we had made love. 

Then I woke up enough to realize I was naked. So was Obi-Wan. That was more conclusive evidence. 

I reached out along our bond and found his shields lowered. Although he was still asleep, he reached for me as well. Our minds met, and I was given wordless assurance that it had been no dream. He loved me as I loved him. He was willing to admit that now. 

I tightened my arms around him and nuzzled in his hair, breathing in the scent of him because I wanted to. Because I could. He stirred and woke. When he turned over to face me, he smiled. It was an open smile such as I had longed to see ever since Naboo. I stroked his cheek with the backs of my fingers. 

My Obi's inner light had been rekindled at last. 

We showered together. I have never enjoyed soap so much. 

Afterward, Obi nudged me out of the bathing room, saying he needed to dress alone. I complied without question. I wanted to help him dress. It would have been almost as sensual an experience as helping him undress. There was time for that, however. We had the rest of our lives. 

I prepared tea and sat on the balcony, waiting for him. I felt him approach me before I heard him, my sensitivity to his presence heightened by our strengthened bond. I suspect that the bond created for us by the Force has grown beyond a mere Master-Padawan bond. What it is and what it will become remains to be seen. 

He rested his hand on my shoulder. I reached up and covered it with my own, leaning back against him when he bent over and kissed the top of my head. 

"I have something for you," he said softly. "A present." 

I turned to look at him over my shoulder. "A present?" 

He nodded and a mischievous, charming grin bloomed on his lips. "Hold out your hands," he instructed. 

I did as he asked. I can refuse him nothing when he smiles like that. He dropped something into my palms. I felt it slithering against my skin like a living thing, but when I looked down at the thin skein in my hands, I realized it was not alive at all. It was, however, a symbol of the end of one life and the beginning of a new one. 

Obi's padawan braid lay coiled in my hands. 

I stared up at him, amazed. "You cut it off," I said. As if he did not already know this. 

"Yes." He nodded, and his expression was somber for a moment. "It's time. Qui-Gon is dead, and I'm no longer a Padawan. I loved him. Part of me will always love him--" 

I nodded, letting him know I understand. I do not begrudge Qui-Gon's place in my Obi's heart. 

"--but he's my past, and you're my future." He leaned down and kissed me, lightly brushing his lips over mine. "I'm a Knight. It's time I act like one. It's time I take my place by your side where I belong and assume the responsibilities that my Master trained me for. To do any less is to dishonor him, his memory and everything he taught me." 

I rose to my feet, the braid slipping from my hands unheeded, and I cupped his face, allowing him to feel the pride I have in him through our bond. "You are a Knight. You will be a great Knight. I sense it." 

He slid his arms around my waist and smiled again. That smile was coming more often and more easily now. He was returning to the being of light and energy I fell in love with on Naboo. 

"Well, I don't know about all that, but I'm going to be the best Jedi I can be. I owe it to Qui-Gon, but most of all, I owe it to myself. I've been holding myself back too long. That's over--thanks to you." 

"No..." I demurred, but he gave me a reassuring squeeze. 

"Yes," he insisted. "You brought me back from despair. I'm ready to face the future again rather than dwell on the past, and we're going to face it together." He paused, then looked at me shyly. "If you want to." 

I looked at him, scarcely believing he even needed to ask. "Yes. I will be with you for as long as you want me by your side." 

"Through this life," he said. 

"And beyond," I finished. I had hardly gotten the words out before he kissed me, his hands seeking entrance beneath my clothing. 

We made it back into our bedroom. Barely. 

I do not know what the future holds for Obi-Wan and myself. I do not entirely understand this bond we share and how it will change us. There are many things I do not know. But then... who does? The future is in constant motion. The one thing I am confident about is that Obi-Wan and I can face any challenge as long as we are together. As long as we love.   
  


  
-End-   



End file.
